


Thereafter You Have It (And Tango Makes Three)

by sunsetmog



Series: Annabel [1]
Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Babies, Band Fic, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-22
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-18 12:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 89,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/188953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby!fic. As harriet_vane succinctly put it, the almost true story of how Brendon's an idiot, Spencer brings Brendon shiny rocks, and no one gets any sleep. Or, alternatively, the one in which Brendon accidentally gets a girl pregnant, decides he wants to be a dad, and pretends like he's not in love with Spencer.</p><p><i>"Hey, baby girl," Brendon says, softly. He thinks he should have thought of something more profound to welcome his daughter in to the world.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> The concept for this fic was entirely stolen from harriet_vane, who emailed me and said "I want to write about how Brendon knocks up some girl and is left with the baby", and then I stole her idea and told her all about in a series of emails that spilled into a google doc, and then spilled into another google doc, and then I rolled my eyes and realised it was, in fact, fic.
> 
> ashlein, boweryd and kraken_wakes have also read this on an almost daily basis (much to kraken_wakes' bemusement; she responded to emails with pictures of Jensen Ackles attached and asked me if I wouldn't rather write about him instead).
> 
> maple_mahogany did an amazing job betaing this for me, and so did harriet_vane; however, all remaining errors are my own. As always, I make this shit up. I don't know any of the members of Panic at the Disco, I'm pretty sure they're not secretly bringing up their baby somewhere, I definitely don't know very much about the legal ins and outs of becoming a parent in this way, and this is all written with fond affection and no intention of offence.
> 
> Also, mostly unrelatedly, [And Tango Makes Three](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/And_Tango_Makes_Three) is the best book ever.
> 
> Fanart!: [Art by the wonderful scoradh](http://scoradh.livejournal.com/194744.html#cutid3), here are pictures of Brendon and his baby. ♥
> 
> This was originally posted [here on livejournal](http://sunsetmog-fics.livejournal.com/41342.html) in April 2009.

The first Brendon hears about it is when his phone buzzes with a message about three hours after they've finished a show somewhere in New Mexico.

He barely remembers the face that goes with the name that flashes up on his screen; he thinks, _Lucy_ and doesn't come up with anything tangible. Most of the names in his phone are dead ends, names and numbers plugged into his phone at parties, in hotel rooms, in clubs and bars across the country. Hardly any of them mean anything to him anymore. Lucy was ten days of his life, if that, a vacation fling three months ago.

The message says, _we need to talk_.

Brendon shrugs his shoulders and thumbs back to his message menu. He's pretty sure that they really _don't_ need to talk. He's pretty sure that they didn't talk much three months ago. He rolls his eyes and flops down onto the couch. It's really late, and everyone else is asleep. He should head back to his bunk and crash out, too.

 _we really need to talk_ , the second message says, beeping obnoxiously by his ear. _im not kidding._

Brendon sighs, and types, _ru ok_.

 _im pregnant, what do u think. ur gonna b a dad_.

Brendon drops the phone.

\--

"What are you going to do?" Brendon asks, once she picks up.

"Get rid of it, I guess," Lucy says, tiredly. "What else can I do? I'm _nineteen_ , Brendon. I don't want to be a mom."

"Yeah," Brendon says. For a brief moment, he thinks about this tiny creature that probably already has hands and feet and eyes, and maybe even eyelashes, and who maybe, one day, might want _him_. He shakes his head. "No, right."

\--

"What if I asked you, um. Not to get rid of it," Brendon asks, the next time they speak.

"I told you before. I don't want to be a mom. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

"No, I get that." Brendon does. It's just. He'd always imagined having a kid, sometime. "But. Maybe I want to be a dad."

"No fucking way," Lucy says, and hangs up.

\--

"Maybe we can work something out," Brendon says.

"Like _what_?" Lucy sighs. "I have this baby and give it to you? Something like _that_?"

Brendon coughs. "Yeah," he says. "Something like that."

"You're a fucking idiot," she says, after a moment.

"I want this baby," Brendon says, softly. "I want to be a _dad_."

"I had thought about maybe having the baby adopted," Lucy says, after a while. "You know. Not getting rid of it. But not being its mom, either."

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Like that."

\--

"If we were to do this- this _thing_ ," Lucy says, as soon as Brendon picks up, and Brendon slips out of the lounge and into his bunk, pulling the curtain across behind him so that no one can hear. "This stupid thing that I haven't agreed to, by the way, I don't get _how_."

Brendon thinks of the family law specialist he spoke to over the phone, and the appointment he's set up for the morning after they get back to Vegas. "We'd figure it out," he says. He's thought of nothing for the past two weeks but of a tiny baby with tiny toes and tiny hands, a tiny baby that's _his_. Someone he could love and who would love him back.

"I'm not interested in being a mom," Lucy tells him for the hundredth time.

"I know," Brendon says. "I know, and you wouldn't have to be. Not if you didn't want to be. I'd do it all. I'd take care of-" _the baby_ , "-it."

"You really want this, huh?" Lucy asks, quietly.

"More than anything," Brendon tells her, and it's the truth.

\--

The lawyer drafts up the paperwork, and Brendon pays for Lucy to fly down to Las Vegas to meet up and talk it out.

When Brendon meets her off the plane, the first thing he notices is that she's starting to show, but also that she's trying to hide it by wearing a loose, purple dress so that it's not so obvious. She looks tired, too, tired and worn out.

"Hey," Brendon says, and he's leaning in to hug her before she's even said _hey_ back. He can feel the curve of her stomach against his. "Thank you," he says, against her hair.

"I haven't signed anything yet," Lucy says.

"No," Brendon says. "But, you know. Thanks. For coming down here and listening, at least."

He buys her a smoothie and they pick at their muffins and stare out the window.

"You don't have to sign the parental rights waiver," he says, eventually. "I can get the lawyer to amend the paperwork."

"No," Lucy says, shaking her head and slowly tearing her napkin into pieces. "I want to. I'll have this baby and I'll hand her over to you, and that's _it_. I want that to be my involvement, over."

"Her?" Brendon says, softly.

"Yeah," Lucy says. She unclasps her purse and pushes a picture across the table. "The sonogram," she says. "It's a girl. Your baby's a girl."

Brendon looks down and he sees his baby, a paler shadow on a dark background. "Fuck," he says.

"That's her head," Lucy says, pointing. "And her feet, there. She's facing this way, look."

"I'm going to have a baby," Brendon says. He rolls his shoulders, anticipation thrumming beneath his skin. "Can I get a copy of this?"

"That's yours," Lucy says. "She's yours."

Brendon reaches for her hand across the table. A _baby_. His baby. He holds the picture between his thumb and forefinger, and stares.

\--

They go to the lawyer's office, and Lucy signs all the papers the lawyer puts in front of her, including the parental rights waiver that Brendon insists she doesn't have to sign. "You don't have to decide that, yet," he says. He loves his baby already, loves everything about this tiny creature he hasn't even _met_ yet. He can't imagine not feeling like that, and he doesn't want Lucy to sign anything away she might regret later.

"I've already decided," Lucy says. "I'm doing this for you, and for her. She's not my baby, she's _yours_."

Brendon swallows down a breath and signs where the lawyer asks him to. His hands shake, after.

Later, Brendon parks his car in the corner of the parking lot outside the airport. "I can't thank you enough," he says. "You're an amazing person for doing this."

"I'm a _stupid_ person for doing this," Lucy tells him. "That's what my friends say."

"No," Brendon says. "To do this for someone - for _me_. That's the most amazing thing you could ever do."

Lucy swallows hard and looks out of the window.

"Can I come to your next sonogram?" Brendon asks, all of a sudden.

"I guess," Lucy says. "You'd have to fly out."

"I know," Brendon says. "I'd like to. If you, you know. If that's okay."

"It's _your_ baby," Lucy says.

"But your body," Brendon says, lightly.

Lucy watches him for a moment, and then nods. "Okay."

He carries her bag and buys her a magazine for her plane trip home.

\--

Brendon gets back to his place and goes upstairs to the bedroom next to his, the one that used to be Shane's before he moved out. There are two cans of paint on the floor in the middle of the room, a new paint roller still in it's packaging lying beside them. There's a half-assembled crib leaning up against the wall.

He pulls the sonogram picture out of his pocket and leans it up on the mantel. "Baby, baby, baby," he says, softly, and bounces on the balls of his feet.

\--

The call comes on the last night of the tour.

Brendon's heart starts beating like crazy once he answers and hears Lucy on the other end of the line, telling him she's gone into labor.

"You're not due for another week," he says, pushing past Spencer and out of the venue into the cool evening air. He ignores Spencer's lazy shove and Jon's call of, _we're smoking up, you want in?_ He was supposed to be _there_ , a phone call away from Lucy, staying in a hotel room with his own car waiting in the parking lot, ready to drive his baby back home. Instead, he's outside a venue in Chicago surrounded by people who have no idea he's about to become a dad, and he's too many miles away and suddenly in desperate, desperate need of a plane ticket.

He runs his fingers through his hair and tries not to hyperventilate.

"Yeah," Lucy says, "try telling your baby that."

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Brendon says, and starts running, over to where Zack is at the other side of the parking lot. He has to leave, right _now_.

\--

He doesn't hang around long enough to tell Spencer or Ryan or Jon that he's leaving. The only thing he can think about is his baby, his little girl that might be being born right _now_ without him there to see it, without him to hold her and tell her that he loves her.

There's a flight out of O'Hare that he begs his way onto, telling everyone around him that he needs to get to the hospital because his girlfriend's gone into labor (his voice catches on the lie, but it doesn't matter, because there's a _baby, his_ baby, and he's going to be a dad). The girl behind the desk is taking his credit card details as they're already doing the call for the flight. He races through the airport, still sweaty from the show, and he makes the flight by a few seconds. He's got nothing with him but the backpack he'd taken into the venue with him earlier, a change of clothes and some shower gel and deodorant. He'd found his phone charger, his wallet and his house keys on the bus, and by then the car had arrived and he was gone.

\--

The labor's long and when Brendon arrives at the hospital, saying _Lucy Heyer, she's in labor, she's having my baby_ \- she's still only partially dilated. The doctor says they're going to be a while yet, and Brendon collapses onto one of the waiting room chairs and tries to remember how to breathe.

In the end, he sits in the delivery room with her, because he doesn't know what else to do. He'd thought that she would have her mom with her, or a friend, but she's all by herself. "Do you want me to call anyone?" he asks, when she squeezes his hand so hard the bones grate under the pressure.

"No," she says. "After. I'll need someone, after. I'll call them then."

"Okay," Brendon says. He holds her hand and waits, and the hours tick by so slowly it's ridiculous. She's been in labor fifteen hours. Sixteen hours. Seventeen hours, and she looks exhausted.

"I can't do it," she begs, "I'm too tired. Please."

Brendon would hate himself for putting her through this, but he can't because she's having his baby. His _baby_.

"You're almost there," the doctor says, his hands beneath her gown. "I can see the crown. Just one last big push for me, Lucy-"

"Come on," Brendon tells her, squeezing her hand, "you're so close."

She takes a deep breath, sweat plastering her hair across her forehead. "One last push," she gasps.

And then, _then_. There's a cry.

There's a cry and a tiny baby that's all his and his heart just hurts because he had no idea he could love anything as much as he already loves this tiny, tiny baby with ten fingers and ten toes, who he holds close and doesn't ever want to let go of.

She fits in the crook of his arm, tiny and wrinkled and red-faced. She's beautiful.

"Hey, baby girl," Brendon says, softly. He thinks he should have thought of something more profound to welcome his daughter in to the world, but he can't think.

Lucy is lying back on the pillows. She's exhausted.

"Do you want to hold her?" Brendon asks.

Lucy shakes her head. "No," she says.

Brendon nods.

"But," Lucy starts. "Maybe you could both just sit here, with me."

Brendon shifts his chair so that they can both look at their baby, a tiny, red-faced baby who's _theirs_.

\--

Brendon doesn't want to ask, _are you sure about this?_ but he has to.

Lucy is, though. She signs the remaining papers they've had the lawyer draw up, and seals the envelope. "All done," she says.

"Thank you," Brendon says. "This doesn't mean -" he starts, but he doesn't know what it is he wants to say. "You can still be a part of her life," he says, eventually. "If that's what you want. I'll send you pictures and everything. You'll always be her mommy."

"I'd like that," Lucy says. She's called her friend; she's on her way in. "You send me pictures and I'll send her cards. You know, on her birthday. At Christmas."

Brendon nods quickly. "You're her mommy," he says again.

Lucy shakes her head. "I don't want to be a mom," she says, softly. "I want to go to college and I want to travel and I want to build a life."

Brendon looks down at his baby. He wants to build a life for _her_. She's tiny and red and fragile and she's _his_. She's his daughter and now he's a dad, and no one else in the whole world knows.

He holds Lucy's hand until she falls asleep, and then Brendon spends the rest of the day in a chair by the side of his baby's crib, watching her breathe.

\--

He only leaves the hospital after all the nurses at the nurses station persuade him that his baby is going to be just fine. They all seem to like him, and they bring him cups of tea and let him talk to them about how beautiful his baby is. Brendon needs a car seat and he needs to rent a car to drive his baby back to Las Vegas. He needs other things too, diapers and formula and blankets and clothes. He's been buying stuff for months now, and he has a fully stocked baby bedroom back at home, but he'd planned on being back in Vegas before Lucy called him. He has nothing here, and nothing for the six hour trip back home.

He's away from the hospital less than an hour but it still feels like forever. He picks out the exact same car seat he's already picked out in Vegas, because it's easier than reading all the other packaging and figuring out whether there's another, better one. He pushes the cart around Walmart and picks out blankets and diapers and tiny baby clothes and all the other things the nurses have added to his list. He buys a camera too, and when he goes back to the hospital he takes picture after picture. Until now, he wasn't sure he could love anything as much as he loves her.

Later that afternoon he carefully picks her up and straps her in to her new car seat. He hugs all the nurses and then he pulls Lucy close, kissing her forehead and saying _thank you thank you thank you_ over and over.

"Look after her," Lucy says. "Be sure to send me pictures."

"Every day," Brendon promises.

"No," Lucy says, carefully. "Not every day. Sometimes, though."

"Whenever you want," Brendon says, and kisses her cheek. "If you need anything, _anything_ , you just need to pick up the phone, okay?"

"Yeah," Lucy says. "Okay."

Brendon hugs her again, until she pushes him away and back towards his baby.

"Go on," she says. "You've got a long drive."

\--

Brendon talks to her the whole drive back, telling her about how she's going to be the most amazing baby girl in the world, how's she's going to be clever and bright and smart and beautiful, and how her daddy loves her more than anyone else in the whole wide world.

He pulls over to feed her, again and again, and he holds her close and never wants to let her go.

\--

When he gets home he takes her upstairs to his bedroom and he lies down with her beside him and kisses her forehead while she sleeps. She's tiny and all curled up, her knees drawn up to her chest, her fingers curled into fists. He says her name softly, over and over, _Annabel_.

She wakes up and he makes her a bottle and he's slow and unsure and he already hates to hear her cry. He thinks that he'll do anything, anything, _anything_ to stop her crying.

\--

He has a _baby_.

\--

He doesn't turn his phone on.

\--

He barely sleeps, scared that something's going to happen to her, that he'll wake up and she'll be _gone_. She wakes up every hour and she cries and his head starts to hurt. His kitchen is a mess of bottles and formula and he doesn't want to put her down to try and clean up.

He doesn't know what he's doing.

In the end, he lays out a blanket on his floor in his living room, and then her blanket on top of it, a soft, new one with elephants and penguins marching across the bottom. Annabel's wrapped in a shawl, her eyes wide and unfocussed, and he lies her down and takes picture after picture.

He waits until she's asleep again before he boots up his laptop.

He picks three pictures out and attaches them to an email. _Annabel Melody Urie_ , he writes in the subject line, and he adds Spencer, Ryan, and Jon to the _to_ line.

 _This is my baby_ , he writes in the body of the email. _Annabel. Born Thursday 15th September at 10.10am. 7lbs. She's going to be the smartest, brightest, most beautiful girl in the world._

As an afterthought, he adds his mom and his dad and his brothers and his sisters and Shane, and clicks _send_.

\--

Brendon had expected that people were going to be surprised and confused and upset, but he hadn't counted on angry. His mom calls him up and she _cries_ on the phone to him, asking him over and over why he kept this from her. His dad doesn't understand, and when Brendon speaks to Ryan, Ryan's so angry he can barely speak.

He's left trying to warm Annabel's bottle and pick her up because she's crying, all at the same time as trying to explain to his mom why Lucy won't be looking after Annabel, why Annabel is _his_ and his alone. He gives in, and he waits until she stops for a breath and then he just says, "Mom, please. Will you just come over and meet her? She wants to meet you."

There's a long pause. "Okay," his mom says, after a while. "But, Brendon. This doesn't mean we understand."

Brendon rests his forehead against the wall, and lets out a deep breath. He wants his mom, because his daughter is five days old and she needs a bath but he's too scared to actually bathe her. He doesn't want to do something wrong and hurt her. She has that squishy spot on the top of her head because her skull hasn't fused. He's scared for her.

\--

"She's beautiful," Brendon's mom says, the first time she holds Annabel.

Brendon just smiles, because she _is_ , and she's his. "Most beautiful baby ever," he says, and it's kind of possible he's been running on adrenaline for days. He's running out of energy.

"And you're going to be bringing her up?"

Brendon nods. "Yeah," he says. "Just me."

"I don't understand," she says. "Why doesn't her mom want her?"

"She's not ready to be a mom," Brendon says, softly. He touches at Annabel's fist with his finger. "I was ready to be a dad."

"And she just... gave her up?"

"It's what she wanted. What we wanted. She signed the papers," Brendon says. "It's just me and Annabel now."

There's a long minute where nobody says anything, and then his mom sighs and says, "We should go and give her her first bath."

\--

"You're still my baby," his mom says, later on, when they're all in the living room and Annabel's asleep in Brendon's dad's arms. "You're still my baby and you've got a baby of your own now, and I will still never, ever understand why you kept this to yourself."

Brendon can't explain why he wanted Annabel so much that he couldn't tell anyone. "She's _mine_ ," Brendon says. "She's mine and I'm going to be the best dad in the world and I'm going to give her _everything_."

"You're just a _kid_ yourself," his dad says.

"Too late to go back and change things now," Brendon says. He wouldn't want to, anyway.

"I didn't even know you were seeing anyone," his dad goes on.

Brendon shifts uncomfortably. "I wasn't, not really. It was just. We were both on vacation."

"Brendon," his mom says, appalled. "Why weren't you _careful_?"

"Mom," Brendon says. "I don't know, okay. Sometimes condoms just _split_." This is a conversation he should never, ever, _ever_ be having with his parents. It's not like he can hide the fact that he's been having sex from them, though; he has a baby to prove he is.

"Oh, _Brendon_ ," his mom says.

"It doesn't matter," Brendon tells her. "How I got her doesn't matter. She's going to grow up to be amazing."

\--

Ryan calls him up just to yell at him, and Jon sends a package down from Chicago, full of toys and tiny t-shirts and a framed version of the picture of Annabel that Brendon had emailed. There's a note on top; _am gonna beat you dead when I see you_ , Jon's written, _but your baby is kind of beautiful. I'm gonna fly down soon so I can meet her. And punch you for not telling us_.

Brendon dresses Annabel in one of the tiny t-shirts and takes a picture before she gets spit-up all over it. Brendon thinks every piece of clothing he owns is already covered in baby spit-up, and she's only a few days old. He emails Jon the picture in the two minutes downtime he has in between Annabel finally falling asleep and the doorbell ringing, copying it to Ryan and Spencer, just because.

Brendon's house is suddenly full of people, all of the time. All of his brothers and sisters are dropping in, bringing things for the baby and wanting to hold her and making drinks in the kitchen and hugging Brendon. They've all got so many questions, and Brendon is pleased that everyone wants to hold Annabel and bring her gifts, but it's getting to be too much. Annabel's overwhelmed by the number of people holding her, the different smells and the changes in blurry shapes around her. She's too quick to cry, and not easy to settle. He's learning all about Annabel, about how she smells and how soft her skin is. He's learning to recognize her snuffles and he could probably pick out her cry from a roomful of other babies, and he knows this is getting to be too much. In the end, he pushes his family out of the door and takes Annabel up to his bedroom. He kisses each of her toes and sings to her. He falls asleep next to her, the sound of her breathing lulling him to sleep.

They manage an hour before she wakes up, demanding to be fed.

\--

Ryan keeps calling him up just to shout about something different, and Jon emails him over and over. He hasn't seen Spencer, and Spencer hasn't been in touch, not once.

\--

"What the fuck are you going to do about _touring_?" Ryan asks, barging past him and into Brendon's house.

"I've just got her to fucking sleep," Brendon says, after a tiny cry starts up and Brendon slumps back against the wall. He's _exhausted_. His house is always _full_ and Annabel won't stop crying and he's tried texting Spencer but Spencer never replies.

Ryan has the grace to look abashed. "Sorry," he says, but he doesn't stop talking, not even when Brendon picks up his baby and paces the living room with her, humming at her and trying to talk her to sleep again.

"Touring, Brendon, what is this, is this the end of the band?"

"No fucking way," Brendon says jiggling Annabel up and down. She's just had a bottle, and there's spit-up on both his t-shirt and hers. "I'll figure something out."

"But _what_?" Ryan says. "You can't just bring her on the bus. Who's gonna look after her?" He waves a hand in Annabel's direction. He hasn't asked to hold her, and he hasn't looked at her. This is the first time they've met.

"I don't know," Brendon says. "I'll get a nanny, or something. We'll figure something out."

"We're a _band_ ," Ryan says. "Not a fucking nursery. You can't bring a baby on tour."

Brendon freezes. Sweat prickles across his skin. Annabel snuffles into his neck. "I'm not leaving her behind," he says, fiercely. "No fucking way."

"Well," Ryan says.

"Well. I guess you guys need to figure out whether you still want me in the band," Brendon says, and he holds on to Annabel tightly. He'd give it up for her. He'd find something else.

"Brendon-" Ryan starts.

"I'm not leaving her behind."

"Can I?" Ryan asks, after a minute. "Can I see her?"

Brendon makes Ryan sit down and then he carefully shows Ryan how to hold her, how to cradle her head and hold her close.

Ryan lets out a long breath.

"I can't leave her behind," Brendon says, for the third time. "You get that, right?"

Ryan doesn't say anything for a while. He looks awkward, holding Annabel. Awkward and unsure. He shifts a little, making himself more comfortable. "Yeah," he says eventually. "I get that."

\--

Later on, when Brendon's taken Annabel back and Ryan's followed them upstairs and watched as Brendon's put her down in her crib, Ryan touches his shoulder.

"You should have told us," he says. "You shouldn't have kept this from us."

Brendon feels really tense. "I'm sorry," he says, tightly. "I wanted her so much."

"I know," Ryan says, slowly. "You fucked up badly, Brendon, keeping this from us. But I guess we'll figure something out."

Brendon lets out a sigh. "Spence-"

"He's angry," Ryan says. "He doesn't know what you were doing. None of us do."

"I want to explain," Brendon says. "But he won't listen."

"He'll come around," Ryan says. "He's just hurt."

"Okay," Brendon says, and his chest aches.

\--

Spencer shows up when Annabel is fifteen days old. He knocks at Brendon's door at eleven thirty in the morning, when Brendon's been awake for something close to thirty hours and he's exhausted and hollow-eyed.

"You fucking _dick_ ," Brendon says, even though he _knows_ he should be the one apologizing. "You _dick_."

"I'm sorry," Spencer says. "Are you going to introduce me to your baby?"

Brendon nods. "She's through here," he says, and he takes Spencer into the living room where Annabel is in her seat, head to one side, her eyes wide.

"Hey baby girl," Spencer says, kneeling down in front of her.

"Annabel," Brendon says. He feels awkward, tapping his feet. He's exhausted. "Her name's Annabel."

"Annabel," Spencer says, softly. He leans forward and kisses her forehead. "I'm sorry I haven't come to visit you before, Annabel," he says. She stares at him, unblinking.

"Your baby's beautiful," he says, without looking at Brendon.

"She is," Brendon says. "She's the most beautiful baby in the world."

"She looks like you."

"You think?"

Spencer shrugs. He shuffles backwards and sits on Brendon's couch, leaning forward so that Annabel can curl her fingers around his. "If you ever, ever, ever keep anything like this from me again, Brendon-"

"I know, I'm sorry," Brendon interrupts. "I thought you'd all try and stop me."

"We probably would have tried to talk you out of it, at least."

"And then I wouldn't have Annabel," Brendon says. "And I can't not have her. You get that, right?"

Spencer shrugs again. "You look tired," he says.

"Yeah," Brendon nods. "She doesn't sleep much."

They sit on the couch and watch Annabel for a while, until Brendon falls asleep with his head on Spencer's shoulder.

\--

When Brendon wakes up, it's dark outside and Annabel's gone. He feels a wave of panic he can barely process, fear twisting in his stomach. He's up and off the couch before he's even awake, out into the hallway and calling her name.

"We're up here," Spencer calls back, and Brendon doesn't stop until he's upstairs and in Annabel's bedroom, where Spencer's in the chair with Annabel in his lap.

"You were gone," Brendon says, and he's reaching for the baby before he realizes what he's doing, taking her from Spencer and hugging her close. Annabel hiccups against his skin. "I woke up and she wasn't there."

Spencer's standing up. "I'm sorry-" he's saying. "You looked tired, I didn't want to wake you-"

Brendon closes his eyes. "It's okay," he says, after a minute. "I just didn't know where she was. I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

"You need to sleep," Spencer says.

"Yeah, but." Brendon just kisses the top of her head. "She needs me. Has she had any formula?"

"I called my mom," Spencer tells him, awkwardly. "I asked her and I read the instructions out and she talked me through it. I don't know whether I gave her enough."

"Okay," Brendon says, and he sags back against the wall, taking a deep breath. "I didn't know where you were," he tells Annabel, softly, kissing her head again. "Jeez."

"Sorry," Spencer says again, softer. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," Brendon interrupts. "Thank you for looking after her."

"Anytime," Spencer says, and Brendon nods.

\--

"I could make us some food," Spencer says, after a while. "If you're hungry."

Brendon nods. He's gotten used to eating on the go, things he could microwave or toast or just eat straight out of the fridge. "Yeah," he says, awkwardly. "If you don't mind."

"I don't," Spencer says. "I'm sorry I took her."

"I freaked out, that's all," Brendon says, but he can't forget that initial fear when he first saw that she was gone. He suddenly realizes that his life has changed for _good_.

\--

Brendon sits in his bedroom with Annabel, lying her beside him on the bed while he curls around her. He can't take his eyes off her, and he wonders whether it's normal to want to sit and stare at his baby for hour after hour after hour. He doesn't think he'll ever get bored of her.

She stretches her legs a little, and Brendon wraps the blanket around her tighter, so that she's warm enough.

"Baby baby baby," he says, softly, and he presses his mouth to her skin. "Annabel, Annabel."

There's the smell of food wafting up from the kitchen and Brendon's suddenly hungry. God knows what Spencer's found to cook, Brendon's only shopped for Annabel and has barely thought of himself in days.

He whispers, "Don't you ever leave me, okay?" and she moves her feet and stares at him with unfocussed eyes. "I'll take that as an okay," he says, and he carries her downstairs and into the kitchen, where Spencer's making omelets and hash browns.

"You need to go to the store," Spencer says. "This isn't a meal."

"I know." Brendon does. "I should get on that."

"I'll go with you, if you want," Spencer says, washing two plates under the faucet and drying them off. "So that you can concentrate on Annabel."

"Yeah," Brendon nods. "Cool. In the morning?"

Spencer nods his agreement.

\--

"I'm going to give her a bath," Brendon says, after they've eaten. "You can stay, if you'd like."

"Okay," Spencer says. "I could help."

Brendon nods. He's still nervous about hurting her, about not holding on tight enough and her slipping away from him. She's so _tiny_.

They fill Brendon's baby tub with warm water and Brendon lies her on the changing mat and takes off her clothes, talking to her all the time and blowing on her neck and her belly. She whimpers as he undresses her, and then starts to cry for real as he holds her in the water. Brendon sings to her, and Spencer wets the cloth and washes her.

The water smells like lavender.

"I'll come by in the morning," Spencer says, later, when Brendon's finished drying Annabel and dressing her in a tiny sleeper. "Then we can go to the grocery store."

\--

Trying to get Annabel ready to leave the house is a full scale military maneuver. Brendon hasn't done it before, not properly, not since the long trip from the hospital. He has about three separate diaper bags in Spencer's trunk and Brendon sits in the back seat next to Annabel's car seat. He waves a rattle in front of her, brightly colored and noisy. She watches the movement for a while before drifting off to sleep.

Brendon leans his head back against the seat and closes his eyes.

\--

"You were asleep," Spencer says, waking Brendon up.

"Was not," Brendon says, sleepily. "Just resting my eyes, that's all."

They wander around the store, Annabel's car seat in the front of the shopping cart. Brendon watches her like a hawk, and Spencer's left filling the cart with stuff that looks to Brendon like microwave meals and red bull and orange juice. They spend ages in the baby aisles, buying diapers in bulk and picking out new baby bubble bath and clothes and blankets. Brendon talks to Annabel the whole time, saying _do you like this, baby? Do you want a pink onesie? Or is yellow okay_? In the end, Spencer picks her little pajamas with cars on them, and blue t-shirts, and asks if Brendon minds that he's buying Annabel boy clothes.

"Dude," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "Those pajamas are amazing. She'll love them. She's a baby who doesn't want to conform to gender stereotypes."

"You hear that?" Spencer says to Annabel, who is waking up and stretching her fingers. "You're a baby that doesn't want to conform to gender stereotypes. That's a good thing, because neither does your daddy. He likes to dress in pink too."

"Nothing wrong with pink," Brendon says, nudging Spencer with his elbow. "Is my baby the prettiest baby in the world, or what?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. "I think I'm getting that."

"My baby's beautiful." Brendon says. "But she's also kind of stinky."

"Yeah," Spencer says again. "I think I'm getting that too."

Brendon wrinkles his nose. "I think I'm going to change her."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "I'll just, um. Carry on."

\--

When Brendon finishes up changing Annabel's diaper, Spencer's nowhere to be seen. Brendon ends up calling him on his phone, and Spencer tells him he's out in the parking lot.

Brendon doesn't realize until they get back to Brendon's house that Spencer's just paid for all of his shopping.

\--

Spencer stays to help unpack the groceries and find space in Annabel's bedroom for all of her new purchases. Brendon falls asleep on his bed with Annabel beside him, and when he wakes up he finds that Spencer has done laundry, washed all of Annabel's clothes and cleaned up the living room and moved all of Annabel's gifts from where Brendon's just left them, littered around the house, still surrounded by gift wrap debris.

"You look exhausted, still," Spencer says, when Brendon brings a crying Annabel downstairs and sets about making her a bottle.

"It's kind of been a stressful few weeks," Brendon says. "I'm still getting used to everything."

"I could stay tonight, if you'd like," Spencer says. "I haven't been around much, I know, and maybe it would give you a break."

"You don't have to do that," Brendon says, but he wants to say yes.

"Sure I don't," Spencer says. "But I'd like to."

"Okay," Brendon says, nodding. Annabel's still crying, and he shushes her, singing about her bottle almost being ready. "Thanks."

"I'll make us some food," Spencer says.

"You're always cooking for me," Brendon points out.

"But this time I have _actual_ food to cook with," Spencer says. "It's going to make all the difference."

\--

In the morning, Spencer hangs around, holding Annabel while Brendon takes a long shower and calls his mom and pays his utility bills and arranges an appointment with his lawyer to make sure everything's in order. Spencer walks Annabel around the house, and Brendon hears Spencer talking to her as he moves between rooms, catching bits of conversation.

"You're telling my baby about drum kits," Brendon says.

"It's important," Spencer says, leaning against the doorjamb, Annabel curled up against his chest, wide eyed. "Don't tell me you haven't told her all about guitars and your piano."

Brendon rolls his eyes. He'd told her all about the instruments that he played right back on that first trip back from the hospital. He's going to teach her them _all_. "My baby's a musical prodigy, I can tell."

"Well," Spencer says. "Of course. Except, it'd be funny if she turned out to be a nuclear physicist and tone deaf."

"She'd be the best tone deaf nuclear physicist in the world," Brendon says, decisively.

"You bet she would," Spencer says. He shifts Annabel into a more comfortable position, cradling her head. "I should go, I guess."

"Not yet," Brendon tells him. He likes watching Spencer hold Annabel. His baby's beautiful. "We bought stuff for lunch, remember?"

Spencer nods, wandering across the living room and stopping in front of the mantel. "Okay. After, then." He's showing Annabel her reflection in the mirror. "Can you see the baby, Annabel?" Spencer's saying. "That's you, in the mirror. Baby Annabel."

"And Spencer," Brendon says, coming over and touching Annabel's cheek with his finger. "Can you see Spencer, baby?"

"I don't think she can see much," Spencer says, but they're both smiling at her. She rubs her cheek against Spencer's shirt, chewing on her fist. She's hungry again.

"Did I do the right thing, Spence?" Brendon asks. He reaches for his baby.

"You haven't made things easy for yourself," Spencer says, carefully. "And you made things more difficult for everyone else, too."

"Yeah," Brendon says, and he leans down so he can rub his nose against Annabel's. His chest feels tight.

"You didn't give anyone time to prepare," Spencer goes on. "You took us all by surprise."

"I know," Brendon says. "I figured you'd all try and talk me out of it, and I wanted her too much. I didn't think about anything else."

"You should have."

"I know," Brendon says again. "I'm sorry."

"But I get why," Spencer says. He kisses the top of Annabel's head. "I get it."

"My baby's perfect," Brendon says, softly. "I'd do anything for her."

"I know," Spencer says. "I get that now."

\--

Spencer ends up bringing a pile of DVDs around to Brendon's and stacking them up by the TV.

"Dude," Brendon says, from where he's changing Annabel's messy t-shirt on the couch. "I just don't think she's an _X-men_ fan."

"Shut up," Spencer says. " _You_ are. I brought pizza too."

"You're the _best_ ," Brendon says, firmly. He kisses Annabel's tummy noisily, pulling down her t-shirt and reaching for a tiny purple cardigan with a unicorn on the front. "You hear that, Annabel? Spencer's the _best_."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "I bought Annabel a new dress, too," he says, throwing a bag at Brendon's head. "Couldn't resist."

Brendon grins. "You love my baby," he says. "Annabel, Spencer loves you."

"Shut up," Spencer says again. "She's cute, okay?"

"The cutest," Brendon agrees. He pulls out Spencer's gift, and it's a denim dress with a berry-red t-shirt to go underneath. There's an elephant stitched on to the denim.

"What?" Spencer says, and Brendon would swear that Spencer's blushing.

"It's awesome," Brendon says. He shows Annabel the dress, pointing out the elephant. She moves her legs, over and over, which Brendon takes as approval. His child is really ridiculously bright.

\--

They get through about half an hour of the movie before Annabel starts to cry. "Don't you ever stay _quiet_?" Brendon asks her, scooping her up and kissing her cheek.

Spencer pauses the movie and leans back in his seat. "Is she hungry?"

Brendon wrinkles his nose. "Stinky," he says. "I'm gonna go change her."

"I'll do it, if you want," Spencer offers. "I came over here to give you a break, so. I'll change her."

"Do you even know how to change a diaper?" Brendon asks, doubtfully.

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Yeah, and how long have you known how to? A few weeks? How hard can it be?"

"It's _hard_ , okay?" Brendon says.

Spencer raises his eyebrows. "Give her to me, okay. I'll go change her, and if it's too difficult for me to figure out, I'll shout. Will that work for you?"

"You don't know where things _are_ ," Brendon says. It's weird, because he knows that changing a diaper isn't exactly rocket science, but he's still worried that Spencer will do it wrong, and that Annabel will be uncomfortable. He's kind of possessive about his baby.

"She's crying," Spencer points out. "Give her to me, you can come upstairs and point out where everything is, and what I'm doing wrong - which will be _nothing_ , okay - and then I can do it without you freaking out every time, how's that sound?"

\--

"Okay," Spencer says, after Brendon's finally stopped laughing. "Okay, so it's harder than it looks."

\--

"Do you think there's something wrong?" Brendon asks, anxiously, a couple of days later. "I mean, like. I've fed her and I've changed her and we've bathed her and she's still crying. I should call my mom, right?"

Spencer looks tired. Annabel's been crying for two hours without a break, and she's red faced and angry and she's too little to cry for this long.

"I think, maybe she's just crying just because," Spencer says. "She isn't running a temperature. Babies just cry sometimes, right?" He doesn't look convinced. He looks kind of desperate.

"I don't know," Brendon says. "I don't think I can call my mom again. Not after yesterday." Brendon had been worried about the rash on Annabel's legs, and his mom had rushed over only to tell Brendon it was the ribbing on her socks.

"I could call my mom?" Spencer offers.

Annabel's tiny baby cries are ringing in their ears; Brendon hates it. He hugs Annabel tighter and hums into her ear, jiggling her up and down, trying to calm her down.

"Okay," Brendon says, nodding quickly. "Yeah. If that's okay."

Spencer's mom suggests wrapping her up so she's really snug in her blanket, and then maybe taking her out for a drive. Or doing some vacuuming, because babies like the vibrations.

Spencer just rolls his eyes and gets his car keys.

\--

"I thought you were going to try and _nap_ ," Spencer says, a week or so later, after Brendon stumbles sleepily downstairs after he thinks he hears Annabel cry.

"She's crying," Brendon says.

"And you're _napping_ ," Spencer says. "I can cope with her crying. Go the fuck back to bed."

Brendon leans against the doorframe. "Give her to me, just for a minute."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "How much sleep did you get last night? And the night before last?"

"Tons," Brendon says. "Hours and hours. Give me my baby."

Spencer rolls his eyes again, and hands Annabel over. "You need to sleep," he says.

"I need to hug my baby," Brendon says, blowing kisses against Annabel's cheek.

"And also, sleep."

"Sleep's for _losers_ ," Brendon says, stifling a yawn.

"Maybe I should take her out for a walk, or something," Spencer suggests. "You think you could sleep if you didn't keep thinking you heard her cry?"

Brendon shrugs. "I guess. You wouldn't leave her anywhere, would you?"

"I'm pretty sure I wouldn't," Spencer says.

"You _might_ ," Brendon says.

"I wouldn't," Spencer says, but he doesn't push it, which Brendon likes. "I'll put her in her stroller and take her out in the yard, is that any better?"

"You could take her down the street," Brendon says, after a minute. "Like, not too far."

Spencer nods. "Okay."

"Or, you could take her to see the ducks at the park," Brendon says, all in a rush, because he's never really been away from his baby before. "So long as you didn't stay long. And you took pictures of her."

"We could email them to Jon and Ryan," Spencer says. "Annabel's first day out with me."

"If you leave her somewhere," Brendon says, carefully, "I'll kill you."

"If you don't get some actual sleep," Spencer says, equally carefully, "I'll kill _you_."

"I'll get her diaper bag," Brendon says. "And make her a bottle up that you can take with her. And make sure your phone's charged. Do you know how to put the stroller up?"

"Brendon," Spencer says, "I can do _all_ of those things. Tell me where the camera is and _go to fucking bed_."

Brendon holds Annabel close. She snuffles against his skin, and Brendon kisses the top of her head. "Don't fucking lose her," he says. "I mean it."

"I promise, okay?" Spencer rubs the back of Brendon's neck. "I'm not kidding, though. Get some sleep. You look like a fucking zombie."

Brendon nods, and he sits on the stair with Annabel on his lap while Spencer gathers together all of Annabel's stuff. Brendon waves them off from the door and resolutely does not run down the driveway to stop Spencer from walking off with his baby. Instead, he goes upstairs and tumbles forward onto his bed. He listens to the silence for a minute, and then he thinks about Spencer's promise not to leave Annabel anywhere, and he falls asleep.

\--

"I could stay over," Spencer says, a couple of days later. "You know. If you wanted me to. Take her in the middle of the night so you can sleep."

"Sure you can stay," Brendon says, equally. "But you're not getting up with her."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Any particular reason why not?"

"You mean, other than you not needing to? She's my responsibility." Annabel's lying in her baby gym on the floor in the living room. It's new, and a gift from Jon. He'd called, and said he'd like to buy her something she actually _needed_ , and had then had it delivered to Brendon's a couple of days ago. Annabel loves it; it's brightly colored and covered in animals: lions and tigers and elephants and octopuses and bears. Brendon loves it. She's too little for the toys but she'll stare at the colors and kind of kick her feet against the mat. Brendon's already emailed a zip files of pictures to Jon's email.

"I'm _offering_ ," Spencer says. "Like, to make things easier for you. You're tired, and Jon's supposed to be coming down next week. You should let me, and stop being an idiot."

Brendon leans down and tickles Annabel's toes. She's wearing Spencer's dress.

"Just one night," Brendon says, after a while. "I'll let you have the baby monitor for one night. But you have to promise to come get me if she needs me."

"Sure," Spencer says. "Deal."

"Promise me?" Brendon says.

Spencer nods. "Cross my heart," he says.

\--

Jon calls to tell Brendon when he's flying in. "I'm staying with Ryan," he says. "I was going to ask Spencer, but Ryan says he's over at your place most of the time anyway."

"Yeah," Brendon says. Annabel was awake every hour on the hour the previous night, and Brendon can barely move. Spencer's taken Annabel and is the yard with her, showing her the flowers and the trees. She likes the way the shadows move. "He's been kind of amazing."

"Is Annabel awake?" Jon asks. He always calls up and asks to talk to Annabel, even though the phone is bigger than Annabel's head.

"She's outside with Spence," Brendon says. "You want me to get her?"

"You're letting her out of your sight now?" Jon teases.

"Shut up," Brendon says, lazily. "Spence is awesome with her. I'm pretty sure she keeps reaching out so she can touch his beard."

"Just like the rest of us, then."

"I can't wait for you to meet her," Brendon says, sleepily excited. "She's really bright and kind of advanced and she recognizes your voice, I'm pretty sure."

"She's like, a month old," Jon says, laughing.

"She's a genius," Brendon says, proudly. "And she's almost six weeks old. She's lifting her head and everything."

"Is she doing math yet, or reading Shakespeare?"

"Next month, you skeptic. You want me to get her?"

"Nah," Jon says. "You sound tired. I'll see her tomorrow, anyway."

"Miss you, Jwalk," Brendon says, softly, hiding a yawn. "But my baby wants to meet you."

"Me too," Jon tells him. "And after I've met her, I'm gonna beat you for keeping her a secret."

"Thanks for the warning," Brendon says lightly.

Jon's quiet. "I'm bringing more gifts," he says. "Babies are amazing to buy for."

"Best thing about her," Brendon says. "I've spent everything I've ever earned."

"You'd better not have," Spencer says from the doorway. Annabel's asleep against his chest, and Brendon holds out his hand to beckon Spencer closer.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jon," Brendon says. "Spencer's here, you wanna say hi?"

"Sure," Jon says easily. "Pass me over."

Brendon does, swapping the phone for a sleepy baby, who snuffles as he settles them both down on the couch, Brendon holding her close.

He thinks he might be asleep before Spencer's even said _hey_.

\--

Jon fucking _loves_ her, and Brendon thinks this is possibly the greatest thing he's ever seen, Jon leaning over her seat and telling her over and over how gorgeous she is.

"My baby's the cutest," Brendon agrees, tumbling down on the couch and stifling a yawn.

"You got that right," Jon says, leaning back against the couch. "Where's Spence?"

Brendon waves towards the kitchen. "Out back with Ryan."

"He's been over here a lot, huh?" Jon asks.

"I guess," Brendon says. "Spencer always hangs out here when we're on a break. She's got ticklish feet, I think. Tickle her feet. She totally smiles."

Jon grins. "Isn't that just gas, or whatever?"

"No," Brendon says, airily. It's totally a real smile. "My baby's very advanced."

"About that," Jon starts.

"My advanced baby?" Brendon says quickly.

"Us being on a break," Jon says. "I'm just gonna say this once, okay?"

Brendon nods.

"You've been a total fucking _dick_ about this, Brendon," Jon says. "You've fucked us all over and you kept it from us on purpose. It wasn't fair."

"She's my baby, Jon," Brendon says. He knows he went about this wrong, he _knows_. He also knows that he was doing it to protect Annabel, in his own stupid way. "I'm sorry."

"I know. I get that. We all get that. But where does that leave us? We're supposed to go on tour after Christmas. And don't tell me you didn't engineer this break because you knew you'd be bringing her home, I won't believe you."

"No," Brendon says. "I did."

"Okay," Jon says.

"We're still going on tour," Brendon says. "If you'll have me back."

"Brendon-" Jon starts, but he's interrupted by Spencer coming in.

"Of course we're going on tour," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. He pushes Brendon's feet out of the way and sits down on the couch. "Don't be a fucking _idiot_ , Jon."

"But, _how_?" Ryan asks, following Spencer in and shoving a pile of Annabel's clothes off the armchair and onto the floor.

"Brendon's getting a nanny," Spencer says. "Right?"

Brendon blinks. Spencer pokes him in the leg. "Right," Brendon says. "That's what I said to Ryan. I'm going to get a nanny."

"Right," Jon says, doubtfully. "And what, the nanny's just going to ride along with us? Is there going to be room?"

"We're going to need an extra bus," Spencer says. "One for Brendon and Annabel and the nanny, and one for you guys."

Ryan raises an eyebrow. "You've forgotten _you_ , Spence. Where are you going to be?"

Spencer shrugs. "I dunno. Like, you wouldn't need the nanny all the time, right? You probably wouldn't want her around all day every day. I figured maybe she could have a place on the tech's bus too-"

"-with Zack and the guys?" Jon wrinkles his nose. "This is going to have to be one special nanny."

"It's going to have to be anyway," Spencer says. "It's Annabel."

Brendon kind of wants to hug Spencer, really fucking hard. He presses his toes into Spencer's thigh instead.

Spencer keeps staring at Ryan, instead. "Anyway, so I figured, maybe I could stay with Brendon and Annabel sometimes, when the nanny's on her own bus. Help out."

"Who's going to pay for this whole thing?" Ryan asks.

"She's my baby," Brendon says, decisively.

Spencer rolls his eyes. "We're headliners," he says. "I'm pretty sure the record company can swallow up the cost of the extra bus, at least. When did Fall Out Boy get their second bus? They paid to build Patrick a _studio_ , I'm pretty sure they can cope with an extra bus. And the nanny-"

"The nanny I'm paying for," Brendon says. "No arguments."

Spencer looks doubtful, but Brendon just pokes him in the thigh again.

On the floor, Annabel whimpers and Brendon's reaching for her before he's thought about it. "Hey, baby girl," he says, and he shifts so he can prop her up on his lap, leaning up against his knees.

"Are we going to talk about what we're going to tell people?" Ryan asks, after a minute.

"Now?" Jon asks.

"We're all together," Ryan says, with a shrug.

Brendon tightens his grip on Annabel. "It's no one's business but mine," Brendon says. He hates the idea of people trying to find out about his baby. Annabel's too little to be hassled.

"Yeah, sure. Like that's going to stick," Ryan says.

"We're going to need to announce it at some point," Spencer says, apologetically. "We're taking her on tour."

Brendon stares at his baby. She's beautiful, all tiny fingers and tiny toes. He holds out a finger and she closes her fist around it. "I'll think about it, okay?" he says, finally. "I'll think about what to say."

"But-" Ryan starts.

"Not now," Spencer says, interrupting him. "Let Brendon think about it for a while."

There's a long moment before Ryan nods.

"I'm really sorry," Brendon says, after a minute. "I'm really sorry I didn't tell you guys about her."

Jon leans back against the couch and makes a stupid face at Annabel. "You could have told us," he says, softly.

"You would have gotten mad at me," Brendon says, miserably.

"We've gotten mad at you now," Jon points out.

"Yeah." Brendon shrugs uncomfortably. "But I figured you'd all tell me I couldn't do it, that I wouldn't be able to look after her properly. That that's what everyone would think." His baby is wriggling on his lap, and she's beautiful and tiny and _his_. "I've got her now. Getting mad doesn't change that. Nothing changes that."

Everything happens at once then. Spencer shifts in his seat and Ryan stands up and Jon twists around. They're all staring at Brendon.

"You thought..." Spencer trails off.

"I couldn't take any chances," Brendon says. He gathers up Annabel in his arms and holds her close, cradling her head. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"How scared were you?" Jon asks, after a while.

"On a scale of one to ten?" Brendon tries to laugh. "Right up to eleven."

There's a long moment.

"You ever get that scared again," Jon says, carefully, and Spencer's nodding, " _ever_ , and you come to us, okay?"

"We wouldn't have-" Ryan says. "She's your baby, Brendon. We wouldn't have tried to stop that. Not really. Not in the end."

Brendon kisses Annabel's forehead. "Sorry," he says again.

Ryan comes over and pats Annabel's head awkwardly. "Yeah," he says. "The next time you knock some girl up, just don't hide it from us, okay?"

"Sure thing," Brendon says. He plasters on a smile. "Now, who wants to hold my baby while I go make her a bottle?"

"Me," Jon says, holding his hands out.

"Come sit up here, then," Brendon says, and moves so that Jon can sit on the couch. He passes the baby to Jon, and then lets Ryan sneak into his seat once he stands up to go into the kitchen.

Spencer follows him in. "You okay?" he says, after a minute.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "You want something to drink? There's some OJ left."

"We would never have tried to stop you from raising your baby," Spencer says, as he opens the fridge. "Not in the end."

"I know," Brendon says lightly. He doesn't feel light. "I didn't want to take any chances. I was scared. I'm sorry."

"You've got her now," Spencer says. "You're Annabel's dad and no one gets to change that."

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, tapping his fingers against the counter. The bottle isn't ready yet. It's too hot.

Spencer leans over and tugs Brendon into a hug. "You're going to be a great dad," he says, and Brendon hugs him back, tight. "Annabel's really fucking lucky."

"Not as lucky as I am," Brendon says, and leans into Spencer's side. "I mean, you've seen her, right?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. "You've gotten pretty lucky, there."

\--

Jon stays for Halloween, and Ryan throws a band party at his place in Jon's honor.

Brendon dresses Annabel up like a pumpkin, in an orange romper with a pumpkin hat. He takes a picture with his phone and sends it to Spencer, Ryan and Jon, because the chances of Annabel managing not to spit-up all over it in the next five minutes are pretty slim. He has a diaper bag with at least three changes of clothes in, and secretly he hopes that she messes up her first outfit pretty early on, because his second one is a killer. He's already taken fifteen pictures with his camera to email to his family later on.

"Your first Halloween," Brendon tells Annabel, as he straps her car seat into the car, "and you're going to a rock star's party. How's that for cool?" He holds his hand out for a high five. Annabel sneezes and blinks at him. He's dressed like a vampire, including a full black cape and fake teeth. He's pretty sure that black isn't a good color for hiding spit-up, but he couldn't resist a cape. He's already swished it around a lot while he ran around the house, packing Annabel's diaper bags and singing loudly about parties. He thinks that Annabel gurgles along at one point, but he's pretty sure he's hearing things.

Ryan's dressed as a mummy, complete with trailing bandages, and sunglasses.

"Sunglasses?" Brendon asks, as he tumbles into Ryan's house, complete with diaper bags, a car seat, a pile of snackfoods and a six pack of diet coke.

"Vegas, baby," Ryan tells him, without inflection. "You've dressed Annabel up like a pumpkin."

"Cool, huh?" Brendon says. "Can I stow her stuff in your room?"

"Sure," Ryan says. "But that's also where we're stowing the dog. He ate half of the meat when me and Jon weren't looking."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Jon's room?"

"Probably better," Ryan tells him, following him up the stairs.

"Where's Spence?" Brendon asks. "He's been bugging me all week about Annabel's costume."

"He's out back," Ryan says. "He's fighting with Jon over who cooks the meanest burger, or something."

"Cool," Brendon says. "Are they doing veggie ones too?"

"Spencer bugged me until I remembered to pick some up," Ryan says, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Do I get to hold her now, or what?"

"Sure," Brendon says. "But she smells pretty bad."

Ryan wrinkles his nose. "You can change her first. That's okay."

Brendon just laughs, and swishes his cape.

\--

Ryan is a secret baby lover, Brendon decides. They're all out in Ryan's yard, sprawled across the lawn chairs away from the barbecue. Annabel is wrapped up like a bug in a rug, with only the tiniest bit of her face visible from inside her stripy elephant blanket. Ryan has been holding her for the last twenty minutes, which Brendon secretly thinks is kind of adorable. His baby charms everyone, it's ridiculous. Brendon would get up and take a gazillion photos, except for the fact that he's too tired to move.

"She's not crying," Ryan keeps saying, in surprise.

"She's asleep," Spencer says, dryly.

"Yeah, but."

"She's still asleep."

"My baby loves you," Brendon says. "Someone bring me another veggie burger."

"What did your last slave die of?" Spencer asks, leaning back in his chair for another beer.

"I have a _baby_ ," Brendon says. "I am a slave to her needs. You should bring me a burger. I need to keep my strength up."

Jon rolls his eyes. "This will not become a habit," he warns, standing up. "And I'm only going over there because I'm hungry too."

"Sure you are," Brendon says, beaming.

He gets half way through his burger before Annabel wakes up and starts screaming.

"I'm _eating_ , Annabel," he says, trying to chew faster. He'd kind of like to finish eating something, sometime. That'd be nice.

Ryan holds her out. "She's crying," he says. "Brendon."

Spencer sighs. "Give her to me. I don't mind holding her while she cries. Brendon, just sit down and finish your burger. Another minute won't make any difference."

"She's _crying_ ," Brendon says. He holds out his hand.

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Annabel and I are going to go over there and look at the trees," he says. "Eat your burger."

Brendon eats his burger really quickly.

\--

Annabel is really good and she totally fails to mess up her outfit, even after she's had her bottle.

Brendon rolls his eyes, throws the messed up cloth back into the diaper bag and changes her clothes anyway.

When he brings her back down to the party five minutes later, she's dressed as a bat, complete with black velour playsuit and black and purple wings. She has _ears_.

If it was possible for Brendon to love her anymore than he already does, seeing his baby dressed as a bat might just take it right to the next level.

"Jesus fucking _Christ_ ," Jon says, and he has to sit down because he's laughing too much.

Brendon holds her extra carefully and makes her fly, wings out.

"Basically," Brendon says, after a minute where he's made Annabel fly past Spencer and his camera a grand total of seventeen times, "my baby is the best baby in the world, right?"

"You're a vampire," Ryan says, "and Annabel's your vampire bat."

"Does she have a _tail_?" Jon asks.

"Yep," Brendon says, and he hugs Annabel to him and kisses her forehead, just at the spot where her hood stops. He flops down onto the sofa, and wriggles so he can wrap his cape around her. She snuffles, stretching her fingers out, and tries to lift her head a little. Her neck's getting strong, Brendon thinks, and he adjusts her hood and holds her close.

He wakes up, later, and it's dark outside. "How long was I asleep?" he asks, careful not to disturb Annabel, who's still sleeping.

"An hour or so," Spencer says, wandering in from the kitchen. He's lost the werewolf head, hours ago, but he still looks kind of wolfish, especially with the furry feet. "We took pictures. They're kind of funny."

"I fell asleep at a party," Brendon says, yawning. "I'm such a dick."

"Not for the first time," Spencer says, and hands Brendon a bottle of Coke.

Brendon grins, and checks to see if Annabel's warm enough. "Yeah, but I think passing out after drinking too much and just falling asleep because you're lame are two different things," he says.

"You fall asleep," Spencer tells him, nudging Brendon so that he can sit down on the couch. "Remember that time, in Chicago? With Cash?"

"I was really, really tired," Brendon says. "And it was like, five in the morning or something. And I'd had beer."

"Still," Spencer says. "You've fallen asleep before."

"I guess," Brendon says. "You think my rock and roll days are over?"

"Given that you're still in a band, I'm pretty sure your rock and roll days are still here," Spencer says, with a lazy smile.

In her sleep, Annabel stretches her arm out, and curls her fingers back into a fist.

Brendon watches her, and smiles.

"Where are the others?" Brendon asks, after a while. Spencer leans in and runs the back of his finger down Annabel's cheek.

"Out back," Spencer says. "Smoking up. Jon just spent twenty minutes trying to roll the perfect joint. Ryan's about ready to kill him. You know he can't wait for shit."

"You're smoking up without me," Brendon says, miserably.

"Pretty much," Spencer says, easily. "You were asleep. And, you know, you're driving home with the baby."

"I know," Brendon says. "Doesn't mean I don't want to, though."

"You want some M&Ms?" Spencer asks. "Like, it's not weed, but."

Brendon starts to laugh. "And getting stoned always makes you hungry, yeah, I know." He rolls his eyes. "I could eat some M&Ms."

"Good," Spencer says, and produces a bag of peanut ones from down the side of the couch.

Brendon shifts, and holds his hand out for Spencer to pour him a handful.

"Annabel's pretty amazing," Brendon says, after he's inhaled the whole handful in one go, "don't you think?"

"Sure," Spencer says, and grins. "What do you think she'll be when she grows up?"

"Totally awesome," Brendon says, decisively. "And president, maybe."

Spencer laughs. "She could be in a band," he says. "Like you."

"Maybe," Brendon says. "Or maybe she'll be something really cool, like a marine biologist, or something."

"A marine biologist?" Spencer asks, laughing. He smells - just a little - like weed, and Brendon leans closer.

"Think," Brendon says. "She could work with _penguins_."

"Penguins live a long way from Vegas," Spencer says. "You sure you want her to go that far away?"

"Definitely not," Brendon says, fiercely, changing his mind. "Maybe she could just work at the aquarium, instead. They have penguins there, right?"

Spencer just laughs.

"I think," Brendon starts, and he shifts, so he's leaning back on the couch, Annabel asleep on his lap, "I think I'd be happy just so long as she was happy, though."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "I get that." He holds the bag of M&Ms out again, shaking them onto Brendon's outstretched hand.

"Are you staying here tonight?" Brendon asks, after a while. Spencer's throwing the M&Ms up in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. He's always been pretty good at that game.

"Guess so," Spencer says, missing and letting a yellow M&M roll across the floor. "I'll crash on the sofa, or whatever."

"You could come back to my place if you wanted," Brendon says, wrapping his cape around Annabel again. "I promise my vampire baby won't get you in the middle of the night."

"Sure," Spencer says. "You've got a spare bed, which is better than Ryan has."

"Uh-huh," Brendon says. "You're just pissed because Jon's got your bed. Ryan likes him better than he likes _you_."

"Am not," Spencer says. He lazily shuffles down the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table and kicking Ryan's crap out of the way. "And Ryan will always like me best."

Brendon grins. "You're such a fucking loser."

"Says you," Spencer says. "We going soon, then?"

Brendon rolls his eyes. "You want to hold her while I go find all of her crap?"

"She going to suck my blood?"

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Apart from how she hasn't got any teeth."

\--

Spencer comes by one afternoon when Brendon's bleary-eyed from lack of sleep. "Does my baby look sleepy to you?" Brendon demands, as soon as he's opened the door.

"No," Spencer says. "Hey, Annabel. Is your daddy being an idiot again?"

"Why doesn't she look sleepy?" Brendon asks. "She hasn't slept. She's like the most wide-awake a baby can be. I object."

Annabel blinks.

Brendon narrows his eyes at her. "She won't _sleep_ ," he says. "Maybe there's something wrong with her. You think she looks sick?"

"She looks _fine_ ," Spencer says. "Why, has she got a fever?"

"No," Brendon says. "She's totally fine, apart from how she's awake."

"I think you're crazy," Spencer says finally.

"Maybe she's a mutant," Brendon says, after a while.

"Uh-huh," Spencer says. "Are you going to invite me in any time soon?"

"I haven't left her alone," Brendon says, "so I'm pretty sure no one's had chance to experiment on her. I think I can probably rule out Adamantium."

"Brendon," Spencer says. "When was the last time _you_ got any sleep?"

"Maybe she's just naturally a mutant," Brendon goes on. "I guess this means we have to pick her out a nickname, like Iceman or Pyro."

Spencer rolls his eyes and pushes past Brendon, inside the house.

Brendon moves out of the way and stumbles after Spencer into the living room. The whole house is crazy. There are baby clothes everywhere, and toys littered across the floor. Brendon's given up trying to cook, and the pile of take-out containers on the table is beginning to look like it might tumble over. He's out of everything he wants to eat, he's barely got any diapers left and he can't actually remember the last time he got more than a couple of hours sleep at any one time.

"What the hell happened?" Spencer asks, turning around. "Did the apocalypse come when I wasn't looking? Is this what the end of the world looks like?"

"Annabel's a mutant," Brendon says, hugging her. "She's a mutant, and she _won't sleep_."

"You've got puke on your shirt, too," Spencer says.

"I know." Brendon says, miserably. "I have puke everywhere. I have it down my neck. She won't sleep long enough for me to shower. I haven't got any clean clothes left."

Annabel hiccups three times in a row and then starts to cry.

"Shhh," Brendon says, patting her on her back. "Daddy's here," he says. "Daddy kind of hates you right now, but he's here."

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "Give her to me," he says, dropping the bag he's holding onto the floor. "Give her here, and then go and get in the shower. Now."

"Can I cry too?" Brendon says, "because I kind of want to. Why won't she sleep, Spence?"

Spencer sighs. "You dick. Why didn't you call?"

" _Because_ ," Brendon says. Because she's my responsibility, he thinks. Because he doesn't want to give anyone else an excuse to tell him he's done the wrong thing.

"Come here," Spencer says, and he tugs Brendon into his side and wraps his arm around him. Brendon relaxes into him, Annabel between them, whimpering. "You should have called."

"She won't sleep," Brendon says, desperately. He's tried everything he can think of, but she just won't go down for longer than twenty minutes at a time. Every bone in his body aches. His head hurts.

"Get in the shower," Spencer says. "I'll make you a sandwich, and then you can sleep."

"But-"

"Shut up," Spencer tells him, and Brendon can't help it, he hugs Spencer hard, letting Spencer take Annabel from him. "Go on," Spencer says, after a minute where Brendon's let his eyes close and he's pretty sure he's falling asleep on his feet. "Upstairs. Annabel's fine with me."

"She's a mutant," Brendon says, darkly.

"Your baby's not a mutant," Spencer says. "No more than you are, anyway."

"Okay," Brendon says, and he goes upstairs and leans against the wall in the shower and tries not to fall asleep.

\--

Brendon wakes up in bed later on and he's still exhausted. He pulls on a hoodie and trips downstairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and tries to put on his glasses without stabbing himself in the eye. He follows the sound of Spencer's voice into the kitchen, where Annabel's in her seat on the table and Spencer's putting stuff in the dishwasher and emptying the trash.

"You're awake," Spencer says. "I was just telling Annabel all about how much of a loser you are, for not calling me."

"You're not funny," Brendon says, yawning.

"Annabel agrees, by the way," Spencer says. "And I can't find your back door key, to take the trash out."

Brendon waves around the room. "It's around, somewhere." He should probably clean up at some point. He can't see any surfaces.

Spencer rolls his eyes. "I'll just take the trash out when I leave," he says.

"Oh," Brendon says, leaning down and pressing a sleepy kiss to Annabel's forehead. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. "You're awake, right?"

Kind of, Brendon thinks. No. "Yeah," he says. "Did she sleep at all?"

"For an hour," Spencer tells him. "She woke up and I changed her diaper, and then gave her a bottle. You're almost out of formula."

"I need to go to the store," Brendon says.

"That's for sure," Spencer says. He wipes his hands on his jeans and touches Brendon on the shoulder. "You feeling better?"

"Sure," Brendon says. He still feels like the living dead.

"Okay," Spencer says. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Brendon nods, dully. He kind of wants to put a movie on and have Spencer stay. It's just been him and Annabel for a couple of days and he's beginning to feel like he's crawling the walls, especially as Annabel's given up sleeping in favor of genetic mutation. "See you," he says.

"Cool. Oh, and I bought Annabel something. It's in a bag in the living room. Tell me if it's wrong, or you know. Whatever. I'll take it back and exchange it."

"You hear that?" Brendon says to Annabel, leaning in close so that she can focus on him. He makes a face, crossing his eyes and opening his mouth wide. A few seconds later she copies him, opening her mouth. The first time she'd copied him, Brendon had called his mom up just to tell her. His baby is totally advanced. "Spencer's bought you a present. Spencer doesn't hate you because you won't sleep."

"Stop telling her you hate her," Spencer says, poking him in the arm.

"I don't hate my mutant baby," Brendon says, picking up her car seat and carrying her through to the living room. "I love her more than anything. I just want her to fucking _sleep_ , sometime."

Spencer grins. "I'll see you later. Take it easy."

After Spencer's left, Brendon settles Annabel down in her gym. He lies down on the carpet beside her, watching her stretch her legs out and wave them in the air. She punches at the air with her hands, and Brendon sings to her, softly, _Northern Downpour_.

She still doesn't fall asleep.

\--

Annabel starts to cry fifteen minutes into _Fight Club_ , and she doesn't stop.

"You don't like _Fight Club_ , huh, baby girl?" Brendon says. He carries her around the house and he thinks about putting her in the car and taking her for a drive, but he's kind of worried that he's too tired to drive without falling asleep at the wheel. He thinks about calling Spencer up, but he doesn't. Spencer's already come over and babysat for him once today, he's hardly going to do it a second time. "Maybe you're just not a Brad Pitt kind of girl," Brendon says, and he puts on a bottle to warm.

She's not hungry and she won't sleep and Brendon doesn't know what to do. "Come on, Annabel," Brendon says, desperately. "What's wrong?"

Annabel just cries harder, and clings to Brendon's shirt.

Brendon rubs at his eyes and wonders how tired you have to be to start seeing hallucinations. His eyelid won't stop flickering.

The doorbell rings and Brendon stumbles into the hallway and opens the door.

"Hey," Spencer says, coming in with a duffel and a couple of big bags from the grocery store.

"What are you doing here?" Brendon asks, stupidly. "I thought you went home."

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "To get some stuff and pick you up some diapers and other crap from the store. Weren't you listening?"

Brendon shrugs, holding Annabel tight and shushing her, jiggling her up and down.

"I guess not," Spencer says. "You thought I'd just leave you when you're this tired? How stupid are you?"

"Pretty stupid," Brendon says.

Spencer hugs him. "You want to try putting her down?"

"She's crying," Brendon says.

"She might cry herself to sleep," Spencer says. "That's what my mom says. It's worth a try."

"Okay," Brendon nods. He's so relieved he might cry too. He just wants to sleep and sleep and sleep.

"Come on," Spencer says, and he pushes Brendon with his hand in the small of his back, "upstairs."

They put Annabel down and then they go and sit on the stairs outside her room and wait for the crying to stop. Brendon's so tired he lets his head rest on Spencer's shoulder and tries to keep still rather than go pick Annabel up because she's screaming.

"Thanks for coming back," Brendon says quietly, after a while.

"You had, like, three diapers left," Spencer says. "And you were almost out of formula. What were you going to do?"

"Go to the store, I guess." Brendon shrugs. "I just kept thinking she'd sleep, and then when we'd wake up, we'd go. Except she didn't. Wouldn't."

"I'm going to stay," Spencer says. "I've brought some stuff. You can sleep through and then not feel like a zombie in the morning. Plan?"

"Not a fair plan," Brendon says, leaning heavily against Spencer's side. "She's my baby."

"And I'm helping," Spencer says. "Take a break, Brendon. It's okay."

"I'm gonna make it up to you," Brendon says, sleepily. "Me and Annabel. We're gonna make it up to you."

"You're an idiot," Spencer tells him, softly. "I like helping."

"My baby's a mutant," Brendon says again. He can feel himself falling asleep, right there on the stairs.

"Sure she is," Spencer says. "Just like you. Come on," he says, cupping his elbow around Brendon's. "Bedtime for you, too."

"I'm fine here," Brendon says.

"No you're not," Spencer tugs him to his feet. "Come on. Bed."

"Annabel-" Brendon says.

"-is going to sleep, listen." He was right, her cries were softening. "So you can go to sleep too, okay? And I'll get up with her in the night."

"That's not fair," Brendon tries to tell him, but Spencer's not listening, just pushing Brendon down onto his bed and pulling back the covers.

"Shoes," Spencer says, and Brendon toes off his sneakers.

Brendon's asleep before Spencer's finished pulling the blankets up and over him.

\--

When Brendon wakes up, he checks Annabel's nursery first and finds the crib empty. He follows the sound of Spencer's voice and finds Spencer sitting up in bed in the guest room with Annabel on his knee.

"Hey," Brendon says, rubbing his eyes. He sits down on the bed next to Spencer and leans in so that Annabel can focus on him. She smiles, slowly, and waves her arms in the air. "Who's my favorite baby, huh?" he asks, and she gurgles. "That's right," Brendon says, nodding. "You are."

"We're reading my magazine," Spencer says, "Annabel likes the parts about drum kits."

"Annabel's humoring you," Brendon says, amused.

"Shut up and get under the covers," Spencer says. "You're making Annabel and me feel cold."

Brendon rolls his eyes.

"Vegas has seasons too," Spencer says, and turns the page. Annabel stretches her hands out.

"Are you going to tell me all about drum kits, then?" Brendon asks, pulling back the covers and crawling under. He holds his finger out by Annabel's, and she closes her fist around his finger. He leans in and kisses her forehead. Annabel gurgles and smiles. "Yes," Brendon says, "I agree."

"I think she likes this one," Spencer says, pointing at one page Annabel's scrunched up. "She spent kind of a lot of time on that. I think that means something, right?"

"Definitely," Brendon says, nodding seriously. "She's a child with very discerning taste."

"How'd you sleep?" Spencer asks, after a minute. "You feeling better this morning?"

"Sleep's _good_ ," Brendon says. "I like sleep. How was Annabel?"

"Awake at one, at four and at six," Spencer says. "Maybe she is a mutant."

"Nah," Brendon says. "She's just a baby."

"A baby that doesn't sleep," Spencer says, stifling a yawn.

"Thanks," Brendon says, elbowing Spencer. "You're kind of pretty amazing, you know."

"I know," Spencer says.

Brendon leans his head on Spencer's shoulder and makes faces at Annabel until she smiles at him and waves her hands.

\--

Spencer insists on staying awake with Annabel and Brendon rather than napping, and Brendon's secretly pleased. They have the last of the Pop Tarts for breakfast, and they make coffee and make faces at Annabel. Brendon conducts an entire conversation with her in gurgles and secretly he's amazed his baby isn't a genius, because she's totally the smartest baby ever.

Annabel keeps fussing though, because she's tired and grumpy. She cries and wants Brendon to hold her. She cries at her baby gym and she cries when she's in her seat or when Spencer tries to walk her around the house. She doesn't want any of her toys. In the end, they put her in the stroller and walk her down the block until she falls asleep.

"Babies are hard work," Spencer says, once they get back to the house.

"You've got that right." Brendon says, and they leave Annabel asleep in the hallway in her stroller while Spencer and Brendon sprawl across the couch and flick through the channels. Brendon lets Spencer pick and they end up watching cooking shows.

"I could cook that," Spencer says, pointing lazily at the screen, where the presenter's doing something with broccoli. "You know. If you had any food in the house."

"Ha ha, very funny," Brendon says, kicking Spencer in the shin. "I have a _baby_."

Spencer just laughs. "Are you going to open my gift any time soon?" he says, sliding the bag he'd brought with him yesterday along the couch. "It's okay, next time I just won't bother."

"Oh crap," Brendon says. "I totally forgot. Sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Spencer says, easily. "I can change it if it's not right, or whatever."

"Oh my _God_ ," Brendon says, as he opens the bag. "This is _amazing_."

Spencer's bought Annabel a penguin outfit which is basically pajamas with a hood with a beak. It's gray and soft with a white fluffy tummy.

"Look at the _feet_ ," Brendon says, excitedly. "My baby is going to have penguin _feet_."

"Your baby's going to grow up wanting to be a penguin," Spencer says, blushing.

"And that would be a totally valid life choice," Brendon tells him. "It's wrong, isn't it, to wake her up so we can put it on her, right?"

Spencer rolls his eyes. "You are an _idiot_ ," he says. "No, we're not waking her up."

"You're no fun," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "She's going to _love_ it."

"You mean you love it," Spencer says.

"Yeah," Brendon says, sitting back and nudging Spencer with his feet. "That too."

\--

Spencer won't take no for an answer when it comes to staying up with Annabel for a second night. "You're exhausted," he says - which is true - "and I can catch up on my sleep tomorrow. And the next day. It doesn't matter. You should take advantage of me while I'm offering."

Brendon rolls his eyes, and sighs. He knows this isn't fair, knows that Spencer shouldn't be looking after his baby, but he's _so_ tired, and everything is a mess. His baby is a mutant baby who won't sleep. "This is the last time," Brendon says, and he _means_ it. "No more."

"Shut up," Spencer says. "I totally like your baby."

"Yeah, well," Brendon says, mollified. "Who wouldn't?"

\--

Annabel's on the floor in her baby gym when Ryan comes over and says, "Brendon, we've got to talk."

"Sure," Brendon says, brightly, picking up Annabel. "Annabel, look who's here - Ryan. You remember Ryan, right? He's the one with the stupid hats. You like his scarves, remember? They're good to suck on."

"Seriously," Ryan says. "I'm not kidding."

Brendon stiffens and holds on tighter to Annabel. "Yeah?" he says.

"Yeah," Ryan says. "Is Spencer here?"

"He's asleep in the guest room," Brendon says. "He stayed up with Annabel last night. You shouldn't wake him."

"Brendon-" Ryan starts.

Brendon stands up and adjusts his weight so that Annabel's more comfortable. "Do you want a drink? I can get you a coke."

"Brendon, Spencer shouldn't be staying up late with your baby," Ryan says. "She's _your_ baby. You need to stop relying on him."

"I don't," Brendon says, and all of a sudden he feels _terrible_. "He wants to. He offers. I don't force him into anything-" He suddenly feels exhausted all over again. He'd chosen to rely on Spencer, he'd _chosen_. He'd said yes _knowing_ that it wasn't fair, that he shouldn't have. He kisses the top of Annabel's head, cradling her close. She snuffles, and clings on to his shirt.

"It's not fair," Ryan says again.

"Ryan," Spencer says sharply, from the doorway. "Shut the fuck up. You don't know what you're talking about." He's clearly just woken up; his hair is sticking up and he has pillow lines on his cheek.

Brendon's cheeks warm and he ducks his head. He hugs Annabel closer. "Baby, baby, baby," he whispers. He knows he relies on Spencer. He _knows_. He's gotten used to Spencer being around and it was easier to let himself take what Spencer was offering.

"Spencer-" Ryan says.

"No, seriously," Spencer says. "I'm not even kidding. Shut the fuck up. Brendon, don't listen to a fucking word Ryan says."

"I'm sorry," Brendon says. "I shouldn't have-" he stops. "I was just so tired," he finishes, lamely, and kisses Annabel's head.

"Spencer," Ryan says, "someone needed to say it."

Spencer just shakes his head. "They didn't. _You_ didn't. I _like_ helping out. No one's forcing me to do anything."

"You should both go," Brendon says. He kind of wants to curl up upstairs on his bed and hug Annabel.

"What?" Spencer says. "No way. I'm not going anywhere." He folds his arms and looks fierce.

"Brendon-" Ryan says, and he looks sad, suddenly. "Sorry. I was just trying to-" he tails off. "I don't know. I didn't want you taking advantage."

"He _wouldn't_ ," Spencer says.

"I did," Brendon says, softly. "Sorry."

"Brendon, shut up," Spencer tells him. "Ryan, you need to apologize."

"He doesn't," Brendon says. "He was just looking out for you. I should go change Annabel. I'll see you guys around, yeah? You can let yourselves out."

Brendon goes upstairs and sits in the chair by Annabel's crib and lets Annabel suck on his shirt, fingers clutching the cotton. He feels really, really bad. Downstairs, he can hear Spencer and Ryan talking loudly, then he hears the front door close and he sighs. "Just you and me now, kiddo," he says and Annabel starts to chew on her fist.

\--

Eventually, he can't stay upstairs any longer and he carries Annabel downstairs, singing _The Rainbow Connection_ to her as she bats at his face with her hand.

Spencer's asleep on his couch, but he cracks open an eye when Brendon comes in.

"What are you still doing here?" Brendon asks.

"Ryan was being a dick," Spencer says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"He was being a _friend_ , more like," Brendon says. "He was just concerned. I do rely on you too much. It's not fair."

"Yeah, well," Spencer says. "Whatever. He was wrong."

"Not totally," Brendon says.

"Brendon," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "Every other break we've had as a band, where have I spent all my time?"

"When you weren't with Haley?"

" _After_ Haley," Spencer says, rolling his eyes again.

Brendon shrugs. "I dunno. Hanging out with me?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. "And we go to the grocery store, right? And I hang out in your living room and sleep in your guest room and take over your kitchen."

"Yeah, but-"

"And now I get to do that and I get to hang out with Annabel too, which kind of makes the whole thing even better, and I get yelled at?" Spencer says. "Dude."

"You like hanging out with Annabel?" Brendon blinks.

"Sure," Spencer says. "I can have a sensible conversation with Annabel." He holds his hands out for her. "Take now, for instance. We're going to have a long and involved conversation about how you and Ryan are both idiots. She totally agrees."

Brendon very carefully hands over Annabel. "I don't want you to be my babysitter," he says, eventually.

"Okay," Spencer says. "But I don't want you sending me away unless you _actually_ want me out of your house. Where am I going to go? Back to my place and hang out by myself?"

"Where's Ryan?" Brendon asks. He sits down on the couch next to Spencer, who's holding Annabel out and bouncing her on his knee. She's smiling at him.

"Gone to get us all food as a peace offering," Spencer says. "I think he feels like an idiot. Or, you know. If he doesn't, he will do by the time I've finished with him."

"Okay," Brendon says. "Right."

\--

 

"I know what you're doing, you know," Spencer says, a couple of weeks later. "I'm not stupid."

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, and he makes a stupid face at Annabel and carries on throwing takeaway cartons into the trash.

"Like, I'm really, _really_ not stupid," Spencer goes on. "I'm so not stupid as to be actually pretty smart."

"Your point?" Brendon asks.

"You're not letting me anywhere near Annabel," Spencer says. "You won't even let me stay over anymore."

"That's not true," Brendon says, lamely.

Spencer raises an eyebrow. "I _like_ hanging out with you," he says carefully, "and I think your kid is awesome, and sometimes I like her better than I like _you_ , because she has better fashion sense-"

"-I dress her!"

"Shut up. I like staying over here, I like hanging out with you and your kid, and will you just _stop_ trying to be Super-Dad and just let me hang out with you guys and maybe help out?"

Brendon sighs. "I don't want you to feel like you have to," he says, slowly. "I can do this on my own."

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "I get that," he says. "I _know_ that. Is that what you think? That I don't think you can do this? That I'm here because I have to be?"

"No-" Brendon shrugs. "Maybe?"

"You _dick_ ," Spencer says. "You're an awesome dad, and your baby is great, and I want to play with her and hang out with you, so will you just let me, please?"

"You think my baby is great?"

"Yes," Spencer says exasperatedly. "What do you want me to do, have a t-shirt made? Annabel's number one fan?"

Brendon blinks. "That'd be a start," he says. "We could take pictures."

Spencer sighs. "Stop trying to prove you can do it all on your own," he says. "I know you can. I know you're an awesome dad. Stop not hanging out with me."

"Stop _not_ hanging out with you?"

"Yeah," Spencer says. "Shut up and give me the baby."

Brendon nods. "Maybe you could take her into the living room and watch her for a while while I do laundry," he says, slowly. "If that's okay."

Spencer smiles. "Okay," he says. "Where's my Anna-banana?"

"That's not her name!" Brendon yells after them.

Spencer just laughs, and Annabel gurgles.

\--

Brendon gets back from the grocery store to find Spencer lying on the floor next to Annabel, who is carefully and methodically sucking on the trunk of her elephant soft toy.

"Do you want to help with the bags, Spence?" Brendon asks, on his second trip past the living room. He waves at Annabel.

"I'm watching your baby," Spencer says, without moving. "I'm very busy."

"I've been buying her C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S presents," Brendon says, leaving bags all over the hallway. "You should come see."

"Cool," Spencer says, rolling on to his back. Next to him, Annabel chews on her elephant some more and kicks her legs. "What did you buy?"

"I'm not telling you _here_ ," Brendon says, waving at Annabel. "She's only going to find out on Christmas morning, and not before."

"Dude," Spencer says. "She's three months old. I'm pretty sure she doesn't get it."

Brendon rolls his eyes. He's not going to ruin the sanctity of Christmas morning present-opening by spoiling the surprise. "I'm still not telling you here." Toy stores are amazing places, Brendon thinks. He could have spent hours in there, apart from how he kept checking his watch every fifteen minutes and texting Spencer from the parking lot, just to check Spencer hadn't left Annabel somewhere and forgotten about her.

"Hope you got me a present too," Spencer says, holding his hand above Annabel's feet so she can kick against it.

"Of course," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "I bought you that weird Red Bull flavor that only you in the world drinks, and they had these really funky Lego sets with castles and shit, so I got you some knights and a catapult thing too."

Spencer sits up. "What, really?"

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Wanna see?"

"Fuck, yeah," Spencer says, and they spend the next half an hour building a castle wall on the coffee table and shooting raisins at each other and telling Annabel she can't play.

"I think she's sulking," Spencer says, after a while. "She's totally pouting."

"She's not," Brendon says, clambering over Spencer and scooping Annabel up into a hug. "She just wants to join in, that's all. That's right, right Annabel? You want to throw raisins at Spencer's face, too."

"No way," Spencer says, reaching over and taking Annabel off Brendon. "She wants to be on my team, right? You want to throw things at _Daddy_."

"Stop ganging up on me," Brendon says. "Annabel, you're supposed to be on _my_ side." He makes a big sad face. "I'll cry."

Annabel copies him after a moment, frowning back at him.

"My baby is the smartest," Brendon says, sunnily, and Annabel smiles sleepily.

\--

After Annabel goes down for a nap, Brendon drags Spencer into his bedroom and lays out all of Annabel's Christmas presents on his bed.

"Jeez," Spencer says. "Did you buy up the whole store?"

"Only what I could fit in the car," Brendon says. "You think I got too much?"

"You're going to have to buy a new house," Spencer says. "One with its own warehouse attached."

"You think I got too much," Brendon says, sitting down and frowning. "I overdid it, right?"

"I think as its her first Christmas you're allowed to spoil her," Spencer says. "But you could have left some of the cool stuff so I could have given her it."

"You bought her a penguin outfit," Brendon says. "Basically nothing I've bought her is as cool as that."

"Shut up," Spencer says.

"It's true, though," Brendon says. "Hey, you see this? It's a whole zoo of animals, for the bath tub. How cool is that?"

"The coolest," Spencer says, seriously, nodding.

"You're an idiot," Brendon says, laughing.

Spencer pokes him in the arm. "Says you."

Brendon feels all warm inside.

\--

Brendon's plans for Christmas mostly involve him, his baby and a fuck load of gifts for Annabel. He keeps buying things online, whenever Annabel's asleep or lying on the floor in her gym. Packages keep arriving and he keeps having to stumble to the front door in a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt, Annabel pulling at his hair or wiping sticky fingers across his glasses, to sign for yet another pile of gifts he can barely remember ordering.

Spencer just laughs at him, and keeps telling him that Brendon had better be careful, else he's going to have no money left for diapers and formula.

Brendon punches him in the arm and makes Spencer hold Annabel while he goes to hide the latest package in his closet.

"Can you fit any _actual_ clothes in there anymore?" Spencer calls after him, as Brendon runs upstairs.

"Shut _up_ ," Brendon yells back. So he's had to move most of his clothes out and onto the floor. It's tradition, hiding Christmas presents in the closet, and you don't fuck with tradition. "You should stop laughing at me or else I won't give you _your_ Christmas gift."

"You got me a present?" Spencer asks, from the bottom of the stairs. Annabel's very carefully pulling at his hair.

"Sure," Brendon says. His stomach feels funny, like maybe it's time for lunch. He doesn't feel hungry, though. "But you can't ask me for any hints, because that's _cheating_."

"Fine," Spencer says, trying to prise open Annabel's fist so he can retrieve his hair. "I won't tell you about yours then."

Brendon hates waiting for Christmas. He had thought that it wouldn't be as cool now that the emphasis was on someone else and not him, but he can't remember being this excited, like, ever. He wants to see Annabel's face and watch _her_ opening her presents. He can't wait.

He's bought a huge tree for the corner of his living room, and he and Spencer spent a whole afternoon covering it in shiny baubles and tinsel and Disney decorations. Ryan came by later on in the evening, declared the whole house a prostitute's boudoir, and promptly joined in hanging tinsel and sparkly things from the ceilings and all the pictures.

Annabel has been entranced ever since, and whenever she gets grumpy, Brendon just stands by the tree until she stops crying and starts staring at the lights.

"Your house is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen," Ryan says, sprawling across the couch next to Spencer. Annabel reaches for his sunglasses, smearing her fingers across them.

"I _know_ ," Brendon says. "Isn't it amazing?"

Spencer just laughs.

\--

They hold the interviews for Annabel's nanny in the week before Christmas. Spencer has a list of questions and different pieces of paper for each of the applicants that the agency sends over, and Brendon and Spencer sit on the couch while each of the applicants in turn sits in Brendon's armchair and answers each of Spencer's questions.

Annabel mostly behaves like a brat, crying all the time and wriggling a lot and refusing to settle. She sees off three of the applicants by screaming all the way through the interview and being grumpy. Another two leave after Brendon explains that they want the nanny to come on the road with them for a few weeks, and look after Annabel for the two weeks before they go, while they're practicing.

"This is going really well," Brendon says, despondently, after the fifth interview.

"We'll find someone," Spencer says, but he looks just as harassed. Annabel doesn't want a bottle but she's _hungry_ , and she's scratched Brendon's cheek with her fingernail. She spits up most of her formula down Brendon's collar just as the sixth interviewee arrives.

She seems nice; she's a girl of about twenty who turns up in smart pants and a loose flowery top. She says _hello_ to Annabel and doesn't seem particularly fazed by the idea of coming on the road with them. She hasn't had much experience but her references seem good, and she's free to start looking after Annabel in the new year, when Ryan's booked the practice space for them to start preparing for tour. Her name's Kali, and she acts like she doesn't really know who they are. Brendon's pretty sure that's a good thing, but he can tell Spencer doesn't look so sure.

"We'll be in touch," Brendon says, shaking her hand as she leaves.

"Hmmm," Spencer says, once she's backed her car out of Brendon's driveway. He reaches for Annabel, and Brendon hands her over. "I don't know."

"She's definitely the best out of all of them," Brendon says. He doesn't particularly want to give up his baby to anyone, let alone some kid just out of high school, though.

"Her references are good," Spencer says, reading through them again. "I think I might give her old employer a call."

"I'm going to take Annabel upstairs and change her, then," Brendon says. "And change my shirt, it's got baby puke all over it."

"Everything you _own_ has baby puke all over it," Spencer points outs, as he takes the phone and heads for the couch again.

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says. "Blame the baby, not me."

\--

Brendon takes Annabel into his room after he's changed her, and lays her down on the bed. She kicks her feet out, and stretches her fingers. Brendon tugs off his shirt and drops it on the floor, and tries to find a clean-ish one to put on instead. He finds a Snoopy one eventually, on the floor under a pile of clothes. He pulls on a hoodie too, before he lies down next to Annabel and stifles a yawn.

"You should sleep more," Brendon points out, poking her in the tummy so she smiles. "Then I wouldn't be so tired."

Brendon gets the feeling that if she could, Annabel would be rolling her eyes at him. He smiles, and strokes her hair.

"Why couldn't you be this nice to the _nannies_ , huh?" Brendon says. "Instead you tried to pretend you were Babyzilla. Would it have killed you to be nice to them? I know you can be nice."

Annabel gurgles and reaches for her feet.

"Well," Brendon says. "Exactly."

Spencer brings them both a can of coke and pokes Brendon until he shuffles over so there's room for Spencer to lie down on the bed on the other side of Annabel.

"Her old employers sound happy with her," Spencer says, after a while.

"Well, that's good," Brendon says. "I guess."

"I've spoken to the agencies again, too, and they haven't got anyone else to send us. I think it's her or we start all over again after Christmas."

"Ryan would kill us," Brendon says. He leans in and tugs up Annabel's cardigan and t-shirt so he can blow a raspberry against her tummy, just above the diaper. She kicks her legs a lot and waves her hands.

"If you're not happy with her," Spencer says, "we don't have to pick her. She's going to be looking after Annabel, she's got to be right."

"Everything about her seems right," Brendon says. "I guess I just don't want anyone but me looking after her, that's all."

"Well," Spencer says, tickling her tummy. "I can understand that."

Brendon nods, and tries not to notice the way Spencer's hair brushes across his cheek and falls into his eyes.

Brendon curls his fingers into the blankets and buries his nose in Annabel's hair.

\--

Brendon is adamant he wants to spend Christmas morning by himself, just him and Annabel together. He refuses invitations from his brothers and sisters to go over to theirs to open presents, and he talks to his mom on the phone and tells them he doesn't want to stay with them, either. He wants Annabel to have Christmas morning in her own home, with her Christmas tree and her Christmas presents and her daddy. He tells his mom he'll be over for lunch, and that he'll see everyone else there. After twenty minutes of her asking question after question about how Annabel is, and all about the new nanny's credentials, Brendon finally hangs up and rolls his eyes.

"Mom asks more questions than you do," he says, flopping down next to Spencer. "We should have gotten her to come over and interview Kali too."

Spencer sprawls across Brendon's couch and pulls a hoodie over his eyes. "Your baby is both loud, and awake again," he says, in a muffled voice. He's pulled the hood tight and Brendon can only see his nose.

"Your turn to go," Brendon says, putting the phone down on the table and pushing Spencer's feet off the couch. "I've just had to tell Mom I'm not going to be there on Christmas morning, you can go and pick Annabel up."

"No fair," Spencer says. "I went the last time."

Upstairs, Annabel's whimpers become actual _cries_.

"I made you lunch," Brendon says. "You said if I made you a sandwich, you'd get Annabel. You _said_."

"Okay, okay," Spencer says. "I'm going."

Brendon grins and promptly takes Spencer's warm spot on the couch.

"Fucker," Spencer says, and goes upstairs to get Annabel.

\--

 

"Merry Christmas," Brendon says, as soon as Spencer picks up the phone on Christmas morning and groggily says hello. "Here, talk to Annabel."

Brendon holds the phone next to Annabel, and she obliges by sneezing.

"She says Merry Christmas too," Brendon says, taking the phone back.

"Brendon," Spencer says, carefully. "It's six in the morning."

"It's _Christmas_ ," Brendon tells him, rolling his eyes. He's in the kitchen, making coffee and singing Christmassy songs. The house feels kind of empty, though, without Spencer around, and he's pretty sure Annabel keeps expecting him to come in all the time too. Brendon has to stop thinking how nice it is to have Spencer there in the mornings, sleepily making coffee and making stupid faces across the table at Annabel.

"How much sleep did you get?" Spencer asks, and Brendon can hear him rolling over, and the shift of the covers. For the briefest of moments, he imagines waking up next to him, all warm and sleepy and half-awake. He shakes his head, and tries to smile as Annabel copies him.

"Tons," Brendon says. "You?"

"More than that," Spencer says. "Have you started opening presents yet?"

"No," Brendon says. Maybe he should have gone over to his mom and dad's. The house feels kind of empty, all of a sudden.

"Why not?"

"Don't know," Brendon admits. "It's too quiet, I guess."

There's a long pause. "Do you want me to come over?" Spencer asks. "Because I could. I could be the official guy with a camera, or something, recording Annabel's first Christmas for you to re-live, over and over again until she's too embarrassed to be seen with you."

"My daughter will never be embarrassed by me," Brendon says airily, and he waits until Spencer's finished laughing before he rolls his eyes. "Okay," he says. "You should come over. Annabel misses you."

There's a pause, and then Spencer laughs again. "Yeah," he says, "I miss her too."

When Brendon puts the phone down, he tries to pretend that the warm feeling in his stomach is just because it's Christmas.

\--

Spencer turns up less than an hour later, clutching a travel mug of coffee, and with his hair still damp from the shower. "Where's my Christmas baby?" he asks, when Brendon answers the door.

"She's wallowing in the glory of Christmas," Brendon says. "She's very excited."

"Brendon," Spencer says, carefully, as he unbuttons his coat and pulls off his hat and unlaces his shoes, "if you've dragged me over here at seven in the fucking morning, only for me to find out that Annabel is _asleep_ , I'm going to punch you in the throat."

"Oh, Spence, it's _Christmas_. Throat punching should wait until new year, at least."

Spencer shakes his head. "She's asleep, isn't she?"

"Only a little bit," Brendon says.

\--

They sprawl out on the couch in the living room, with fresh coffee, and they talk about making waffles - with bacon for Spencer, Brendon had been careful to buy some for when Spencer stayed over - and just with maple syrup for Brendon. In the end, though, they just put the television on and change the settings on the Christmas lights so that they twinkle faster.

Brendon tries not to think about how easy it would be to lean over and close the distance between them, about how easy it would be to just lean over and kiss Spencer. He's fairly sure Spencer would kiss back; Brendon's pretty good at reading the signs, he always has been. It's Christmas morning, they're waiting for Annabel to wake up; it would be an easy way to spend the morning, lazily making out. It'd be nice, and Brendon would like it, and Spencer seems like he would like it too, and Brendon's pretty sure that they could work it so that everything could just go back to normal afterwards, too. They'd just go back to being friends like nothing had happened. Fuck, they might even do it again sometime, some evening when Annabel's asleep and there's nothing on TV. Brendon knows how to fill up empty hours; he's been on tour for months of his life. He knows how to play hours of video games and hang out with techs and merch kids and guys from other bands. He knows how to hang out with girls after shows and how to while away an hour making out with a fan. They've all done it, over and over again, even when they were seeing someone back home. Brendon knows that Spencer did it when he was still seeing Haley. It was just... they were away from home, they were bored and people were pretty and kissing was _good_. They all knew how to make out with no strings attached.

Brendon doesn't know how to make out with someone when it means more than that.

He just _doesn't_. He's dated, sure, and he's had vacation flings like the one he had with Lucy, when he's hung out and partied and gone back to his hotel room and had sex just because it's fun, but he's never been in love. He's never even been close, not before now. Now he finds himself thinking about Spencer at weird times of the day and night, and he has a _baby_ that Spencer hangs out with, and it's a bit like every time Spencer picks Annabel up, Brendon's heart does this funny flip-floppy thing, right there in his chest.

Brendon doesn't lean over, and he doesn't kiss Spencer. Instead, he tucks his toes under Spencer's thigh and fights with him for the remote, arguing that watching the cooking channel is no way to spend Christmas morning.

" _Sleeping_ is the way to spend Christmas morning," Spencer says. "I get to pick the channel because you dragged me over here in the middle of the fucking night, and you promised me Annabel opening presents."

"Babies need a lot of sleep," Brendon says. "You keep telling _me_ that."

" _I_ need a lot of sleep," Spencer says. "You could at least make me breakfast."

"M&M?" Brendon offers, lazily. There's a half-empty bag from the night before on the coffee table.

"Your hospitality is overwhelming," Spencer says, dryly. "I could be with my mom and dad right now."

"But you'd rather be with me," Brendon says, with a grin. "I get it."

"I'd rather be with _Annabel_ ," Spencer says. "You sure you don't want me to go and make a lot of noise outside her bedroom?"

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Are you more excited about this than I am?"

"No," Spencer says, but he clears his throat and flicks up and down the channels with the remote.

"You _are_ ," Brendon says. He stops himself from clapping his hands; he's been spending too much time with Annabel.

"Shut up," Spencer says, and Brendon's sure he's blushing. "Make me breakfast."

"Only if you help," Brendon says, after a moment. He wants to make breakfast with Spencer, to have Christmas morning with him and Annabel and to pretend, just for a few hours, that this is how it is, and not just how he wants it to be.

Spencer narrows his eyes. "By help, do you mean, make the whole thing?"

"Nope," Brendon says, shaking his head. "Only, maybe."

"Why do you even buy all this crap you can't cook?" Spencer asks, shaking his head and standing up.

"I can cook," Brendon says. "Only you do it better."

"Hmm," Spencer says, but when Brendon stands up to push him towards the kitchen, Spencer slings an arm around Brendon's shoulders. "Merry Christmas," he says, and then Brendon can't help but hug him, pulling him closer.

"Can't think of anyone I'd rather spend it with," Brendon says, and it's the truth but he covers it up with a laugh, and an elbow to Spencer's side.

"Apart from your sleeping baby, of course," Spencer says, and Brendon grins.

"Of course." He pushes Spencer in the direction of the kitchen. "Come on, before Annabel wakes up and demands we spend hours opening presents with her. Babies are so _needy_ , don't you think?"

"You're a fucking idiot," Spencer says, and then he smiles, and Brendon's stomach flips.

"Waffles," Brendon says, swallowing. "We need Christmas waffles, and so much coffee our heads will explode, and then we need to go and make totally non-scary but loud noises outside my baby's bedroom, because otherwise she'll have slept through Christmas, and nobody wants that."

"Yeah," Spencer says, "exactly."

\--

Annabel has more gifts than a toy store, and she promptly ignores every single one of them in favor of trying to kick at the discarded wrapping paper by her feet and staring at the brightly colored gift tags. Brendon just rolls his eyes and pushes an armful of gifts to one side so she can sit in his lap and make rustling noises with her feet against the paper.

Spencer laughs. "Think of the money you'd have saved if you'd just bought her gift wrap," he says, after he's taken about a thousand pictures of Annabel with Brendon's camera.

"She's a very lucky baby," Brendon says, laying her down on her back on the couch so that he can tickle her tummy and lean in and kiss her cheek. She beams up at him and Brendon can't help it, he knows that he's the luckiest guy in the world. "She's got lots of people who love her. She'll be playing with new toys until next Christmas."

"Well," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and taking another picture, "that's because you have eight brothers and sisters."

"Annabel will never go short of uncles and aunts," Brendon says, and he grins. "Here, pass me the camera. I want to take some."

Spencer passes Brendon the camera and takes Brendon's place by Annabel. He picks her up so that she's sitting on his lap; he scrunches up some of the gift wrap and she tries to help, reaching for it. Her penguin hood falls down over her eyes and Spencer's left trying to adjust it so that the beak doesn't keep poking him in the chin. "I think she likes the noises the paper makes," Spencer says, as Annabel stares at the paper in Brendon's hand. "That's pretty cool, right?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "All these toys and she wants to play with the wrapping paper. Maybe she's not very bright."

Spencer kicks at him, laughing. "Your baby is the smartest baby in Vegas," he says. "I'm going to teach her to read," he goes on, "then you'll see."

Brendon concentrates on the camera, watching Spencer pick up one of Annabel's new books on the digital screen, one about dinosaurs and underpants. It's way too old for her, but Brendon thought she might like the colors. Plus, _dinosaurs_. Spencer starts to read, following the words with his fingers. When he tries to turn the page, Annabel wants to help. She probably has no clue what Spencer's saying, but Brendon doesn't care. Spencer's reading to his daughter and Brendon's in love.

\--

Brendon's parents' house is overflowing with people. Kyla and Kara and Matt and Mason are all there with their families, and the kids descend on Brendon as soon as he arrives, clamoring to hold Annabel and trying to tell Brendon all about their new toys.

It's left to Brendon's mom to come out and shoo them all out of the way, taking some of Brendon's bags of gifts and clearing a way through to the living room. "Happy holidays, Brendon," she says, kissing him on the cheek.

"You too, Mom," Brendon says, and he unstraps Annabel from her car seat - she's a heavy sleeper but even Annabel can't sleep through a Urie family party - and he makes sure Mikey knows how to hold her before he lets Annabel sit on his nephew's knee.

It's bedlam, chaotic and noisy and Brendon loves every moment of it. They sit down to dinner and Annabel has her baby seat drawn up to the table so that she doesn't miss out. Brendon ends up feeding her half way through the meal, and it takes a moment before he realizes that this is _weird_ for everyone else. He's their baby brother, and now he's got a baby of his own and he's cradling her in his lap half way through Christmas dinner, feeding her a bottle. "What?" he says, when he realizes everyone is looking.

"We're just getting used to it, that's all," Kyla says, leaning in and touching at Annabel's hair.

"I'm going to get my camera," Brendon's mom says. "Annabel's first Christmas dinner. We shouldn't miss this."

"You're so grown up," Kyla tells him, and she kisses his cheek. It's weird, because that makes him blush.

"Thanks?" he says, and smiles for the camera when his mom comes over. Then everyone else wants their picture taken, and they don't get to carry on eating for another ten minutes, until Emi and Kennedy and Miya have all had their turn, and his mom's persuaded Mikey to smile.

"No," Kyla says. "That's good. We're all so proud of you."

Brendon kind of wishes he'd told them all about Annabel before she was born, instead of waiting until she was a few days old. He hadn't trusted anyone, and he should have. He laughs, awkwardly, and then Annabel kind of pushes her bottle away and Brendon rolls his eyes. "I guess that means you're done, right, Annabel?" he leans down and kisses her forehead. Her mouth is all milky, and he wipes at her chin with her bib, sticking his tongue out at her. After a moment, she sticks hers back out at him, and he laughs. Her tongue is milky white. He holds her up and rubs her back. His mom had taken his food into the kitchen, putting on the stove so it would stay warm. He picks at the potatoes on Kyla's plate until Annabel's ready to go back into her seat.

"So," Matt says, "how's your Christmas been so far, little bro?"

"Pretty cool," Brendon says, in between mouthfuls of his food. "Spencer took a million pictures so you can see Annabel opening her presents."

"Oh?" Matt says. "I didn't know Spence was staying with you today."

"He wasn't," Brendon says, shoveling the rest of his food down. Everyone else has pretty much finished and the kids are noisy and everyone's talking over each other. They're waiting for him to finish up so that they can make a start on dessert. "Annabel and I called him this morning, and he wasn't doing anything much so he came over to see Annabel open her presents."

"He wasn't doing much?" Kara raises her eyebrows. "He had time to kill on Christmas?"

"He's kind of stupid for Annabel," Brendon says, and tries not to meet their eyes in the most unobtrusive way possible. "And Annabel was up early and Spencer's family get up late, so. He got to do both."

"Cool," Matt says, but Brendon knows he's meeting Kyla's eyes across the table.

Brendon swallows, because this _can't_ be a thing that people talk about, or wonder about. Spencer is his friend and that's as far as it can go. People thinking that Brendon wanted more than that would just make things weird for everybody. "I think Spencer's been pretty lonely this Christmas," he says, quickly. "It's weird for him, Ryan being in Chicago and not here. I think they had, like, bff traditions and stuff."

"Oh," Kara says, nodding. "Yeah, that must be strange for him."

"He bought Annabel a really nice bear," Brendon says. "It's kind of the same size she is, though. It's going to sit on her shelf for a while." He doesn't mention the other two bags of gifts Spencer had brought in from the car that morning, nor the pile of stuff that Brendon hadn't been able to resist buying for Spencer. He'd put Annabel's name on most of the gift tags though, so that Spencer couldn't argue and say that Brendon had bought too much. Brendon just said _you're hurting Annabel's feelings. She picked that out for you specially_ , until Spencer shut up and said _thanks_.

After dinner, they play charades and sing Christmas carols and Brendon sings for Annabel when she starts to look sleepy and her eyes start to droop. She doesn't want to go to sleep though, not when there are so many interesting things to look at and people being nice to her; she starts to scream and Brendon has to take her upstairs to his old room, where they're both staying.

He walks her up and down and sings her Modest Mouse songs until she starts to look less red-faced and more like she's just tired and sleepy. She'd managed to stay in her penguin outfit till mid-afternoon, and since then she'd been in her very best Christmas dress. He can't help it, he snaps a picture with his cellphone and sends it to Jon, Ryan and Spencer. He'd spoken to Jon and Ryan before lunch, letting Jon talk to Annabel all about his Christmas until Spencer had stolen the phone from Annabel and demanded that Jon put Ryan on the phone.

Spencer texts back after a couple of minutes, _hows ur day been? Annabel enjoy herself?_

Annabel's chewing on her fist, her eyes sliding closed. Brendon puts her down in the crib his parents had dragged down from the attic. It's a fold-away one they'd bought when Mikey was a baby, and all of the other kids had used it since. Brendon kind of likes that Annabel's becoming part of a tradition. He calls Spencer from outside in the hallway, saying _hey_ softly as Annabel snuffles in her sleep.

"Hey yourself," Spencer says. "You've just saved me from having to watch _High School Musical_ for the fiftieth time."

"You love that film," Brendon says, going to sit on the stairs so he can hear if Annabel wakes up, "don't even pretend you don't."

"Hmmm," Spencer says. "Whatever."

Brendon just laughs. "How's things?"

"Good," Spencer says. "My mom and dad got me a new iPod."

"Well, that's good," Brendon tells him. "How old was your other one? I've seen newer ones in museums."

"Such a liar," Spencer says, with a laugh. "Just because I don't buy one every time they bring out a new version."

"I'm keeping up with technology," Brendon says, airily.

"And you keep dropping yours so that they break."

"That too."

"Annabel still obsessed with gift wrap?"

"To the exclusion of everything else," Brendon says. "You should see some of the things that she got, they're totally awesome. Mikey got her a _robot_. The girls all bought her a doll. It's kind of squishy and weird looking. I don't get why you'd want to play with a doll. Do you?"

"You play with Annabel all day long," Spencer points out.

"Yeah, but now I get to play with a robot. Annabel's totally in second place now."

Spencer laughs. "How long are you staying with your folks?" he asks.

"Bored of being at home already?" Brendon bites his lip and rolls his eyes. He isn't supposed to be talking to Spencer like Brendon's house is his home. Spencer has his own house, one where there's no babies and no Brendon hanging around making things awkward.

"All my best video games are at your place," Spencer says. "I'm gonna be stuck playing the really crappy ones if you don't get home soon."

"I should totally just give you a key," Brendon says, and then smacks himself in the head because he's an idiot.

"That's not such a bad idea," Spencer says, after a moment. "It's probably sensible. We should get one cut, next time we're out."

"Sure," Brendon says, and leans his forehead against the banister. "I'll probably go home tomorrow evening sometime, in time to give Annabel her bath. Come get your video games whenever."

"Or I could just play them at your place," Spencer says. "It's lame playing them by yourself. I should bring my Wii over so I can beat your ass at Mario Kart."

Brendon thinks he'd probably be even more of an idiot if he turned down a _Wii_. "Cool," he says, after a pause. "Sounds good."

"I should go," Spencer says. "I think Mom's paused the movie."

"Maybe she doesn't know you know all the words."

"Fuck off."

"You should show them that you know all the dance routines too," Brendon goes on, because there is nothing in this world funnier than seeing a drunk Spencer attempt to copy Zac Efron. Or a drunk Jon Walker pretending to be that chick, what's her name. Gabriella. They'd definitely missed their calling.

"I'm hanging up," Spencer says.

"Sure," Brendon says. "Tell them that Chad's your favorite."

"I'm going," Spencer says. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Brendon says, but Spencer's already hung up.

Brendon sighs, checks that Annabel's out for the count, and then goes back downstairs to play a very disorganized and loud version of Pictionary with his family.

\--

Brendon emails Lucy when he gets back home. He's listening to _Rubber Soul_ , singing along to _Drive My Car_ and scrolling through pictures of Annabel to figure out which ones to attach. He emails her about once a month, including a zip file of photos. She always emails back, and she's interested in how Annabel's doing and doesn't ask Brendon to email her less regularly, or more often, or whatever. Brendon feels like they've gotten a good balance. He emails about what Annabel's been up to, and what she can do now that she couldn't a month ago. There's a lot to talk about, because it's Christmas, but he tries to keep his email short. He always feels like he's sent her an essay, and he doesn't know if that's selfish of him or not selfish enough. She doesn't give him many pointers.

He signs off and then wanders around his house, collecting Annabel's clothes from the back of the couch and the dining room table and the kitchen floor. For a kid who needs Brendon to carry her everywhere, she can sure spread her crap around pretty well. He throws them straight in the washing machine, and then falls asleep in front of old re-runs of _America's Next Top Model_.

He was pretty sure he used to be a rock star, somewhere down the line.

\--

"When are Ryan and Jon getting back?" Brendon asks, a day or so later.

Spencer looks up from where he's pulling off Annabel's coat and hat and shoes. "Thirtieth," he says. "lunchtime. I think they're planning on going straight out and buying all the shit for the party and then crashing."

The New Year's party is at Ryan's, this year, and all their friends who are going to be in Vegas or around are going to be there. Ryan's already promised that no-one is going to be allowed to smoke unless they're in the basement or out in the yard, so Brendon's feeling better about taking Annabel along.

"Why did I think they were flying in tomorrow?" Brendon asks, kicking off his sneakers and unwinding his scarf. They've just taken Annabel to the park, and it's cold out.

"Because you're stupid and never listen to anything anyone tells you?"

Brendon throws his scarf at Spencer's head. "I just gave you a key to my house, you could try being nicer to me."

"I just pushed your baby up a hill," Spencer says. "You could try making me a coffee and shutting up."

Brendon rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to the top of Annabel's head as he heads to the kitchen.

\--

Brendon checks his email when Annabel goes down for her nap. Spencer's busy setting up his Wii.

There's a message from Lucy; Brendon's gaze slides to Spencer, and then he looks back at his laptop and clicks on the email.

 _My Christmas was pretty cool, I hung out with some friends from college in Montana. We've just figured out the wifi so I'm sending you this from a cabin in the mountains._

 _Annabel's getting so big now, I can't believe it. She looks like she had an awesome Christmas, with loads of great gifts. You and Spencer look so happy, Annabel's a really lucky kid to have that. I've sent a gift for her, but I think I screwed up getting it mailed in time, so you should get it in the next few days. I've put the receipt in the package so you can take it back or exchange it or whatever. I didn't know how big she was or what she liked, so I just took one of the pictures you sent me last month into the store and asked them to add on a month! They were really helpful and didn't look at me like I was stupid or anything. They're the ones who told me to send you the receipt!_

 _Hope you and Spencer and Annabel have a good new year. Lucy x_

Brendon shuts down his internet browser and stares at the blank screen for a moment. He can't figure it out; does Lucy think he and Spencer are together? It sure sounds like it, but Brendon's been careful not to let anyone think that. He's tried not to talk about Spencer too much in his few emails to Lucy, and yeah, he sent a picture of Spencer and Annabel in with the Christmas zip file, but that had been because Annabel was _reading_ , and Lucy had to know that Annabel was a smart kid. These things were _important_. Plus, she was dressed as a penguin and was possibly the cutest thing in a three state area.

"Okay," Spencer says, from the other side of the room. "We're done. Come over here and let me beat your ass at Mario Kart."

"You're such a fucking loser," Brendon says, and he hopes his voice doesn't shake. "Like you're going to beat me."

"Get over here and watch me," Spencer says.

\--

"Dude, you want to come bathing suit shopping?"

Spencer rolls over and opens an eye. "Do we have to have that conversation again?" he asks, pulling the covers up and over his head. "The one where I explain that you leave me alone when I'm sleeping?"

Brendon rolls his eyes and switches Spencer's bedroom light on. "You're awake now, so stop complaining." He buttons up Annabel's cardigan. She tries to help, picking at the wool. "We're going to the mall. You want to come?"

"No," Spencer says, pulling the pillow over his head. "No, I want you to leave me alone."

"Suit yourself," Brendon says, shrugging. "Annabel will just have to model her new bathing suit when we get home, then."

"Good," Spencer says, grumpily. "Go away."

Brendon just grins. "We'll bring you back a present," he says. "I'll let Annabel pick it out."

"Awesome," Spencer says, sleepily.

"There's coffee downstairs, for when you get up."

"Nrrrgh," Spencer says, and snores.

\--

Brendon's mom and dad got Annabel an introductory swimming lesson for Christmas, with this genius guy who runs classes at the swimming pool not far from Brendon's house.

They also got her a chair, so that Annabel can sit at the table while Brendon has his dinner. Brendon's very excited about the whole assisted sitting thing, because his baby is _growing up_ , but he decided not to point out that actually he couldn't really remember the last time that he and Spencer had actually sat down for dinner. He was going to have to change his routine so that Annabel could sit next to him, properly. That was kind of amazing.

Brendon really loved the idea of taking his baby swimming, but he didn't love the choice of baby swimsuits at the mall. They were all frilly or stupid. The boys ones had pirates on, but none of the girls ones had anything even vaguely similar. He texts Spencer, _why isnt my baby a boy?????_ and picks out a hooded towel with rabbit ears to go with Annabel's stupid bathing suit with ladybugs all over it. He'd like it if it weren't for the frills.

Spencer texts him back, _stop fucking waking me up_.

Brendon picks Spencer out a pair of swim shorts with a pirate flag down one leg, so he could come swimming with Brendon and Annabel. _Ha_ , he thinks, and dumps a couple of packs of waterproof diapers into his basket.

\--

When Brendon gets home, Spencer's lying on the couch in his sweats, looking grumpy. "I hate you," Spencer says. "You're a pain in the fucking ass."

"Suck it up," Brendon says, and throws the shorts at Spencer's head. "We got you a present."

"Your mom called," Spencer yells, when Brendon's half way up the stairs with Annabel. "And what the fuck are these?"

"Swim trunks," Brendon yells back. "So you can come swimming with me and Annabel."

There's a pause. "You're taking Annabel swimming?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, sticking his head out of the nursery, where's he's trying to change Annabel's diaper. "Awesome, right?"

"Kind of cute," Spencer agrees.

"So you'll come?"

"Sure," Spencer nods. "So long as you don't wake me up at the ass-crack of dawn again."

Brendon just laughs.

\--

Ryan's party is kind of _loud_. It's also full of people that Brendon hasn't seen in _months_ , not since before Annabel was born. Brendon and Spencer get there early, so that Brendon could dump all of Annabel's stuff in Ryan's room and not have to deal with dragging a car seat and diaper bag after diaper bag through a New Year's party. Mostly he sprawls on the couch with Annabel and eats Doritos, fighting with Jon as to who gets to hold Annabel the longest.

"She does a really cool trick now," Brendon says, "you want to see?"

"Sure," Jon says.

She'd started doing it just before Christmas but it was still kind of _new_ , so Brendon isn't bored of showing it off yet. He shuffles back so there's room on the couch for him to lie Annabel down. He puts her down and she waits a second before rolling over.

"See?" Brendon says, proudly. He puts her back on her back again, and she rolls back onto her front. "Cool, right?"

"Fucking annoying when you want to change her diaper," Spencer says, coming in with a beer for him and Jon.

"Shut up," Brendon says. "She's _rolling over_. She's so advanced."

Jon just snorts and Spencer starts to laugh.

"Don't listen to them," Brendon says, leaning over and kissing Annabel's cheek so she laughs too. Brendon thinks that her laugh is the best sound in the world. "You and I both know you're the smartest baby around."

Jon cracks open his beer, and Brendon frowns.

"I want a beer," he says. "I would pretty much kill for a beer."

"Yep," Spencer says, taking a long gulp of beer. Brendon tries not to fixate on the way Spencer's throat looks when his head's tipped back, the way he looks as he swallows. "But you _would_ have a baby that you have to drive home."

"I love my baby," Brendon says, miserably. "But I also love beer. And parties. And parties with weed, and drinking at parties with weed."

Annabel laughs and reaches for her feet, before forgetting that was what she wanted to do and rolling over again.

"Your life, so hard," Spencer agrees.

"You just say that because you've all just smoked up," Brendon sighs. "Leaving me all alone up here with just Annabel for company."

"Such a loser," Jon says, shaking his head sadly. "Why are we even friends with him?"

"Because we don't know how to get rid of him," Spencer says. "He's immune to hints."

Ryan comes out with a new bag of Doritos. "Everyone got beer? Because I'm sitting down and not getting up again until everyone else is here."

Brendon pouts. "I haven't."

Ryan pokes him in the shoulder. "Shut up and stop moaning and give me the baby."

"None of you care about my misery," Brendon says, sadly, handing Annabel over to Ryan.

"Suck it up," Spencer says, and throws a Dorito at Brendon's head.

\--

Annabel's the most popular person at the party, which means that by extension, Brendon is too. Everyone wants to talk to her and hold her and Brendon seriously fucking loves being the center of attention. Everyone's having an awesome time, which means that Ryan's party is a success. The music is great and everyone's happy going down to the basement or out into the yard to smoke, and after a while Brendon almost forgets that he doesn't get to drink or smoke up. He dances with Annabel, who conducts an entire conversation with him in gurgles and noises that Brendon can't replicate, even though he tries. She laughs a lot and is seriously the prettiest thing Brendon's ever seen.

Spencer takes her for a while, and takes her on the dance floor which means that Spencer's had more beer than he's had for a while, because Spencer only breaks out the dance moves when he's seriously fucking relaxed. Annabel _loves_ it, and Brendon's left dividing his attention between his friends and Spencer and Annabel, staring over his friends' shoulders at Spencer. It's totally lame how bad Brendon has it for him.

"Annabel's fine," Jon says, coming by with another beer for himself and a can of coke for Brendon. "You can relax, Spencer's got her. And Ryan's there, too."

Brendon thinks that been taken for an over-protective father is better than being taken for a sleazy band mate, so.

After a while, Ryan hands her back to Brendon with a wrinkled nose. "Your baby needs changing," he says, and Brendon just laughs.

"Come on, you," he says, nuzzling at her cheek. She starts to cry, and Brendon sniffs. "You are the stinkiest baby in the room," he tells her. "People think babies are cute, but mostly it's just poop."

He takes her upstairs to Ryan's room and lays out his changing mat on the floor. Every time he puts Annabel down, she promptly rolls over, which is funny for about two seconds. "Annabel," he says, exasperatedly, "will you just _stay still_." She starts to cry for real, then, loud screams that Brendon hates. He sighs, and tries to keep her still while he cleans her up. It takes longer than it should, and even when she's all changed and in clean pants, she's still crying. He holds her close and kisses her cheek. "Sleepy baby," he says. "I think you want your bed."

"Stay a little longer," Spencer says, when Brendon comes downstairs and reluctantly announces that it's time for him to take Annabel home.

"Annabel's tired," Brendon says, because she is. She's clinging to him and whimpering, sucking on her fist and crying.

"She can sleep here," Ryan says. "Can't you put her in her seat thing?"

"That's not really fair to her," Brendon says. "She's tired and she's only a baby. I should take her home and put her to bed."

"Okay," Jon says, and leans in for a hug. He smells like beer. "We'll hang out tomorrow."

"You guys should come over and have some beers or something, too," Brendon says, "in a couple of days or something. We'll hang out and watch movies."

"Cool," Ryan says, and he drops an awkward kiss to Annabel's forehead and hugs Brendon. "Happy New Year," he says.

"Yeah," Brendon says, hugging him back. "Happy New Year."

Then there's Spencer, and he insists on taking Annabel, whispering in her ear and holding her close. She bats at his beard, sleepily. "Happy New Year, baby girl," Spencer says, softly, and then he leans over and hugs Brendon. His beard rubs against Brendon's jaw. "Happy New Year, Brendon," he says, in Brendon's ear.

"You too," Brendon says, softly. "And, Spence? Thanks. For everything."

Spencer just nods, and when he pulls away there's a look in his eyes that Brendon can't place.

Brendon thinks about kissing him, and taking him by the hand and dragging him back to his place and kissing him until after the ball's dropped and it's the new year.

He doesn't, because he can't. He just takes Annabel and straps her into her car seat and lets Jon help him out to his car with all his diaper bags.

He touches at Annabel's face as he puts her in the car. "Just you and me, now, Annabel. Happy New Year," he says, kissing her forehead and stroking her cheek.

She leans into his finger, just for a moment, her eyes sliding shut. She's asleep before they're even out of Ryan's driveway.

\--

Brendon puts Annabel to bed and then sits down in front of the TV with a beer. It's kind of quiet, though, quiet and the loneliest new year he's ever had. He flicks between the new year coverage on the TV channels but it makes him feel even more miserable than he already is. Upstairs, Annabel is sleeping, and he knows that he wouldn't change things for _anything_ , because she's the best thing that's ever happened to him, and that includes being the lead singer in a band, but it's _hard_ , doing the right thing. He wants to be with his friends, partying and smoking up and drinking stupid amounts of beer and making out with someone at midnight. He wants to make out with _Spencer_ , and he knows that he could do. He knows Spencer would probably be okay with it, drunk and at a party. It would be fun, probably. Instead, Brendon's at home with a couple of bottles of beer and some M&Ms and whatever's on the TV, with a sleeping baby upstairs.

He ends up finding some old Futurama episodes and he drinks his beers and finishes the M&Ms and tries not to imagine making out with Spencer too much.

He must fall asleep at some point, because he's woken up by the doorbell. He tries to check the time on his phone, but the battery must have died.

When he opens the door, it's to find Spencer on his doorstep.

"Hey," Spencer says, leaning against the wall. "You gonna let me in, or what? And have you got a twenty for the cab?"

Brendon blinks, and holds his door open wider. "Sure," he says, rubbing his eyes. He grabs his wallet and goes outside to pay the cab driver, who just rolls his eyes.

"Your friend's pretty drunk," he tells Brendon.

"Yeah," Brendon says, "it's New Year's Eve."

"You might want to give him this back," he says, handing over a photo. "He gave me everything in his wallet, including all his change. And a picture of a baby."

Brendon looks down. It's Annabel, taken at Halloween. She's in her bat costume. "That's my baby," Brendon says, stupidly.

"Uh-huh," the cab driver says. "You have a good new year, now."

Brendon stands in his driveway and waits until the cab's out of sight before he goes back inside. Spencer's on his couch, feet hanging off the end. He's already half-asleep.

"You gave the cab driver a picture of Annabel," Brendon says.

"Don't wanna lose that," Spencer says, reaching for it. He fumbles for his wallet, rolling over and trying to get it out of his pocket. He tips it upside down, and nothing falls out. "It's empty," he says, and then his credit card falls out. "Except for that."

"Give that here," Brendon says, with a grin. He reaches for Spencer's card, and slides it back in. He looks at the picture of Annabel for a moment, before sliding that back in, too. "What are you even doing here? I thought you were staying at Ryan's."

Spencer shrugs loosely. "'d rather be here," he says, closing his eyes.

Brendon raises his eyebrows. His heart's beating faster. "So you just decided to get a cab? On New Year's Eve?"

Spencer nods. "Jus' got a cab," he says. "Had to wait forever outside. Jon kept laughing. He thinks my picture of Annabel's funny."

"It's not funny," Brendon says.

"No," Spencer says, shaking his head firmly, "it's not funny."

"So, you figured my guest room was better than Ryan's couch? I get that," Brendon says. "His couch is pretty shitty."

"Not the guest room," Spencer says, closing his eyes tight, " _my_ room."

Brendon swallows. "Yeah," he says, after a beat.

"I'm tired," Spencer says, "I'm gonna sleep."

"You came over here for a bed," Brendon says, "not for my crappy couch. Come on, upstairs."

"Don't wanna," Spencer says. "'m comfortable here."

"Spence," Brendon says, carefully, "you're going to be seriously pissed in the morning when you wake up on the couch. You'll be grumpy as well as hungover."

"Am not hungover," Spencer says, cracking open one eye.

"No," Brendon says, "because you're still drunk."

"Am not," Spencer says. "Just sleepy."

"Sure you are," Brendon says. "Come on." he holds his hand out, and there's a moment where Spencer just stares at it, before he reaches out and takes Brendon's hand.

Spencer's slow when he's drunk, lazy and loose. He doesn't let go of Brendon's hand as they go upstairs and Brendon keeps telling himself, over and over, that this isn't what he's been dreaming about. It isn't. He dreams it differently.

They get to Spencer's room, and Spencer faceplants into the bed.

"Am just gonna go to sleep here," Spencer says, into the pillow.

Brendon shakes his head. "Shoes, Spence."

Spencer doesn't move, though, and Brendon sighs and kneels down, trying to undo the knots in Spencer's shoe laces.

"Next time you get drunk, Spence, you're switching to Velcro, okay?"

"Sure," Spencer says easily, rolling over. When Brendon's finished unpicking the knots, Spencer kicks off his shoes.

"So," Brendon says, awkwardly. He wipes his palms against his thighs.

Spencer holds his arms out. "Brendon," he says.

"What?"

But Spencer just looks fierce and raises an eyebrow. "New Year's _hug_ ," he says.

This is really, really stupid, and Brendon knows it. He knows it, because he wants to kiss Spencer but he _can't_ , he just can't. He leans into Spencer's hug and Spencer hugs back, tight, burying his face in Brendon's neck. His breath's warm against Brendon's throat.

"Spence-" Brendon says, pulling away.

"Brendon," Spencer says, and leans in and kisses him.

Spencer's kiss is warm and easy and tastes like beer. He's gripping on to the collar of Brendon's t-shirt, tugging him nearer, and Brendon stumbles forwards, reaching out for anything to break his fall. He catches at the pillow with his hand, his knee hitting the mattress. Spencer's hands are in his hair and Brendon's kneeling up over him and this shouldn't be happening, but Brendon wants it so, so much.

He can't help it, he kisses back. He kisses back and even though he knows that this isn't going to work, that this _can't_ work, he can't help the tingling feeling in his fingers, or the way his heart is racing. Spencer's hands slide down his back, resting in the curve of his spine, pulling him closer. Brendon cups Spencer's jaw, his fingers brushing Spencer's stubble, rough beneath his fingertips. It's everything he's wanted and _more_ , the way Spencer tastes, the way he keeps on kissing Brendon even though they're both short of breath and Spencer's making these _sounds_ in his throat that Brendon doesn't ever want to forget.

This- Brendon _can't_. This is everything he wants and he can't have it.

"No," he says, pulling away. He touches at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Brendon," Spencer says, his breathing ragged. He reaches for him.

Brendon ducks away. "You're tired," he says. "You should sleep."

"Brendon," Spencer says, again.

"No," Brendon says. "I think I hear Annabel. I should, should check on her."

There's a long moment where neither of them says anything, and then Spencer sinks back down onto his pillows. "Tired," he says, slowly, and Brendon nods.

Brendon closes the door carefully behind him, and once he's out in the hallway he rests his forehead against the wall. His heart's beating fast and loud in his chest, and he can still feel the scratch of Spencer's beard against his skin.

\--

Spencer stumbles into the kitchen around lunchtime. Annabel's in her special chair, batting at the toys that Brendon's fixed up around her tray.

"Fuck," Spencer says, and his voice sounds low and gravelly. "Fuck, I was drunk last night." He reaches for a mug, and pokes the coffee machine. There's a long minute where neither of them speak. "Did I do anything stupid?"

Brendon concentrates on cleaning one of Annabel's old bottles they'd found rolled under the couch. "No," he says, and he can't look up and meet Spencer's eyes, he just can't, "nothing important."

They don't talk much for the rest of the day.

\--

Brendon keeps thinking about what might have happened if he hadn't stopped Spencer when he had. Would they have continued to make out, until Spencer fell asleep? Would Brendon have fallen asleep beside him, only to wake up when he heard Annabel cry? He can't _stop_ thinking about it, can't stop remembering the feel of Spencer's beard against his jaw, the way it had felt when he'd kissed back and Spencer had made that _sound_ in his throat.

It's stupid, because this is exactly what Brendon didn't want to happen. He _knows_ he's in love with Spencer, he knows that Spencer's the person he doesn't just want to make out with or have sex with, he's the person that he wants to wake up with and have breakfast with and go grocery shopping with. He's the person he wants Annabel to grow up with, and every time he lets himself think that, his chest feels tight, because someday, Spencer's going to get a girlfriend _he_ wants to settle down with, and maybe there will be little Spencer babies, and Annabel and Brendon will be nothing more than Spencer's bandmate and his kid.

It hurts, because Brendon _knows_ all of this and yet he still can't stop wishing and hoping that it'll all suddenly change.

It won't, though, and Brendon just has to get on with it and concentrate on not giving away exactly _how_ badly he's in love with his best friend. Which is harder than it looks, because Spencer's still hanging around. He's still eating his way through Brendon's fridge and making them both dinner and answering the phone to Brendon's mom. He's still sleeping in Brendon's guest room and he's still taking Annabel and playing with her and changing her diaper and teaching her everything she ever doesn't need to know about drum kits. It's tough.

"You know she's not actually taking any of this in, right?" Brendon says, coming in from the kitchen to find Spencer reading his drum catalogue out to Annabel, who's listening not particularly attentively, making noises to herself, and trying to turn the pages.

"Don't be so sure," Spencer says, turning the page and starting to list all the bass drum pedals. "When she's a world famous drummer, she'll be talking about this in interviews, about how I started her off on her road to fame and fortune."

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says. "She'll know the differences between bass pedals before she can talk. You think she wants a piano for her birthday?"

Spencer looks up and blinks. Annabel reaches for the page, trying to turn back to the snare drums on the page before. "Christmas was, like, a _week_ ago."

"Might have to get one custom built," Brendon says. He saw it on the TV once, tiny baby pianos for kids. That'd be pretty cool. Maybe they could duet.

"Are you going to be one of those freaky parents who has their kid playing concertos before they go to kindergarten? Because that's kind of weird, dude."

"Not as weird as teaching her about bass pedals."

Spencer narrows his eyes. "You were kidding about the piano, right?"

"Um," Brendon says. "Yeah?"

"Maybe we could just get her a tambourine or a xylophone for her first birthday," Spencer says, "and build up to a piano, slowly."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "You're stifling her musical creativity," he says. "You want coffee?"

"Sure," Spencer says, and goes back to reading to Annabel about drumsticks.

Brendon takes a deep breath, and heads back to the kitchen. He can do this. He can pretend everything's okay.

He _can_.

\--

"Your diaper bag has skulls and crossbones on it," Kali says, fifteen minutes into her first day as Annabel's nanny.

Brendon blinks. "Well, yes," he says. "Pirates pretty much rule."

"Uh-huh," Kali says. "Go on."

Brendon's showing Kali around the house while Spencer gives Annabel her bottle. Brendon had wanted to start Annabel on solid foods about now - or as solid as baby oatmeal could be, but whatever - but he knew she was going to be confused by Kali being there when Brendon and Spencer weren't, so he was trying to put it off. He wasn't exactly excited about the idea of baby food and a moving bus, either, but equally, he wasn't keen on leaving it until they got back from tour. Being a dad and making these decisions was hard. He doesn't know what to do for the best.

Kali's just staring at him, and Brendon laughs and tries to relax. "This is my room, and down the hallway is the guest bedroom, where Spencer's staying. And this is Annabel's nursery."

Annabel's nursery looked like a disaster area, because there were clothes and toys _everywhere_. It seemed like every member of Brendon's family had handed down clothes and toys at Christmas, and then there were all her new things too, and Brendon just hadn't had time to sort anything out.

"It's kind of messy," Brendon says. "But we're going to get on to cleaning up. Christmas, you know."

"Yeah," Kali says, and there's a moment where she just stares at the mess before plastering on a smile. "Okay, where's this gorgeous baby of yours, huh?"

"Don't you want to see the music rooms?" Brendon asks. Part of the reason why Brendon's house was so amazing were the two music rooms - one, which was un-soundproofed but with a view out onto the yard, was where Brendon kept most of his instruments. The other one was down in the basement and was soundproofed and was where they were all going to practice for the next two weeks before they went away on tour.

"Annabel's not going to be in there, right?" Kali asks.

"Well," Brendon says. "No, but. I figured you might want to see where we're going to be hanging out."

"That's okay," Kali tells him. "I'd rather just figure out where all of Annabel's stuff is, and get started."

"Okay," Brendon says, disconcerted. "Sure."

He's still not sure about this whole _nanny_ thing. He knows that they have to have one, because otherwise it means either not taking Annabel on tour or not going on tour at all, and neither of those is an option. It still seems wrong though, like he's letting Annabel down. He's secretly scared that Annabel's going to like the nanny more than she likes _him_ , too. His baby is only tiny, maybe she'll reattach and prefer Kali.

"Spence," Brendon yells. "Is Annabel ready?"

"As she'll ever be," Spencer calls back. They'd dressed her up in a new outfit, a red plaid dress with a matching cardigan. Spencer had said she looked ridiculous, but Brendon had just smiled sunnily and told him to shut up.

"No, really," Spencer had said, "she looks like she should be playing the bagpipes."

"My baby is beautiful," Brendon had said. "And if she did want to play the bagpipes, she'd be awesome at it."

"Well," Spencer had said. "Of course. But she still looks dumb."

" _You_ look dumb," Brendon had said, poking him in the side.

But then the doorbell had rung and Kali had arrived and Brendon had left Spencer to finish giving Annabel her bottle.

"Well hello there, little one," Kali says, leaning over and plucking an unsuspecting Annabel from Spencer's arms.

Spencer looks as disconcerted as Brendon feels.

"Um," Brendon says, and he forces himself to put his hands in his pockets and not reach for her.

Annabel looks decidedly disgruntled, and holds her hands out towards Spencer.

Spencer ducks behind Brendon and hides. "I hate this," he mutters, and Brendon just nods and agrees.

"Okay then," Kali says, brightly. "We're going to go and have some girl-on-girl bonding time."

"Does that sound dirty to you?" Spencer asks, under his breath.

"Shut _up_ ," Brendon hisses. Then, to Kali, "are you sure you know where everything is? And you'll shout me if she gets upset, or whatever?"

"She needs to get used to you not being there," Kali says, firmly. "It'd be better if you stayed out of her way for a few hours."

"I'm not just going to let her cry," Brendon says.

"I'm here," Kali says, in a measured voice. "And between the hours of nine and five you're going to be working on your songs, or whatever, so I'll be looking after her. You don't need to worry."

"I could come and give her her bottle," Brendon says, desperately. He wants his baby.

"She'll be _fine_ ," Kali says. "She's a good, strong, healthy baby. She can do without her dad for a few hours."

She _can't_ , Brendon thinks. He's not sure he wants her to get along without him. "Okay," he says, eventually. He can hear a car pulling into the driveway; it sounds like Ryan and Jon are here. "I guess."

"Say bye to Daddy," Kali says, and waves Annabel's arm.

Brendon thinks he might cry.

Annabel definitely looks like she might cry.

"Bye," Brendon says, sadly, and it's only when he hears the door to the living room close firmly behind Kali that he slumps back against the kitchen cabinets. "Worst idea ever," Brendon says, miserably.

"Yeah, I know, right?" Spencer looks equally miserable.

"We don't have to go on tour, do we?" Brendon says. "We can just video us in my living room and beam it out in each of the venues."

"Sure," Spencer says. "That's a plan."

The doorbell rings, and Brendon goes to let Jon and Ryan in. He resolutely does not look at the closed living room door on his way past.

\--

Brendon keeps making them stop playing because he thinks he hears Annabel cry. "Do you-" he says, stopping playing for the fourth time and glaring at Ryan until he stops too.

"No," Ryan says, and rolls his eyes. "This is why you have a nanny. Annabel's fine."

Spencer pokes him with his drumstick. "Don't be such a fucking asshole," he says. "This is the first time he's left her. It's going to be weird."

"What if she hates her?" Brendon asks, miserably. "What if she misses me?"

Jon slings an arm around Brendon's shoulders and squeezes. It feels kind of nice, so Brendon leans into him for a moment and rests his head on Jon's shoulder. He honestly hadn't thought he was going to be this miserable without her. He wants his baby. He's all restless and twitchy without her.

"I should go up and check on her," Brendon says, and he's half way across the room before Jon grabs his shirt.

"You need to stay here," he says. "You might upset her more if you have to go up there and then leave again."

"Well then," Brendon says, belligerently, tugging away from Jon's grasp, "I just won't leave, then." He'll stay up there with Annabel, instead.

"Brendon," Spencer says, from behind him, and then all of a sudden Spencer's in front of the door and he's not letting Brendon through.

"Get out of my way," Brendon says. "You can't stop me."

"Brendon," Spencer says again. "You can't go up there."

"It's _my_ house," Brendon says, and he's not above trying to push Spencer out of the way.

"Brendon," Spencer says, for the third time, grabbing hold of his arms. "It's okay." And then Spencer pulling him into a hug and Brendon's left burying his face in Spencer's t-shirt.

"I didn't know it was going to be this hard," Brendon says, and he doesn't even know if Spencer can hear him because his mouth is pressed up against Spencer' shirt.

"It'll get easier," Spencer says, his hand on Brendon's back.

"I don't want it to get easier," Brendon tells him. "I just want my baby back."

"She hasn't gone anywhere," Spencer says. "She's just upstairs."

"Don't care," Brendon says. He closes his eyes, and then he realizes just where he's standing, and who he's standing with, and his heart starts beating faster. He tries to pull away, but Spencer just keeps a hold of him. Brendon tries not to breathe in and hug Spencer closer.

"We'll all go up and have lunch together," Spencer says, after a moment. "You and me and Annabel and Kali and Jon and Ryan. It'll be good, and we can see that she's okay, and she can see that we haven't left her-"

"-I _did_ leave her," Brendon says, miserably.

"-you did _not_ , and then we can come back down here and practice again."

" _Again_?" Ryan asks, grumpily. "We've hardly played a song through."

Brendon ignores him. "How long 'til lunch?" he asks, in a small voice.

"A couple of hours," Spencer says.

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, and he's really, really not sure that he can last that long. His heart hurts.

"She won't forget you," Spencer tells him, quietly.

"She might."

"She won't."

"Are you sure?" Brendon doesn't want Annabel to forget him. That would suck a whole lot. That would kind of break his heart.

"She loves you," Spencer says. "She loves you and she's not going to forget you."

Brendon lets himself press his nose to the collar of Spencer's shirt, and just breathe. "She won't forget you, either," he says, softly.

There's a long pause, then Spencer pats him awkwardly on the back. "Good," Spencer says, uncomfortably. "That's good."

\--

Lunch can't come fast enough, and when they finally finish up playing _Pas de Cheval_ and Spencer puts his sticks down and says, "That's it, guys. Break for lunch-", Brendon's got his guitar over his head and he's out of the door before Spencer's even finished speaking.

He rushes up the basement stairs and into the living room, where he finds Annabel on the floor in her baby gym and Kali on the sofa with her feet curled under her, reading a magazine and eating an apple. Brendon throws Kali a scowl, because she's been keeping Annabel away from him, and then he leans in and scoops Annabel up, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

"Who's my favorite baby?" he asks, shushing her as she presses closer, grasping on to his shirt and rubbing her forehead against his neck. "I've missed you, baby girl."

"I thought we agreed we wouldn't disturb her today," Kali says, closing her magazine and sitting up. "We need to establish her routine."

"Screw her routine," Brendon says, against Annabel's ear. "I missed her."

"It's lunchtime," Spencer says, from the doorway. "We thought we could all have lunch together."

Kali nods, and reaches for her purse. "So you'll be taking her for an hour? I could take a lunch break and be back here for two."

"Um," Brendon says, because he really hadn't thought of anything past Annabel. "I guess?"

"Okay," Kali says, and then she's out of the door before Brendon has a chance to think of anything to say to her.

"When did she last have a bottle?" Spencer calls after her.

"She's due for one," Kali says. "I'll see you in an hour."

Ryan just raises his eyebrows, coming up and out of the basement as Brendon comes out of the living room, kissing Annabel's forehead. "Well," he says. "That was quick of her."

"Hmm," Spencer says, and reaches out to stroke Annabel's cheek. "Missed you," he says, softly, and Brendon shifts so that Annabel's balanced on his other side, so Spencer can lean in and kiss her, and Annabel can reach out to bat at his beard and laugh.

"Lunch?" Jon asks. "What are we having?"

"Don't know," Brendon says, and hugs Annabel closer. "Don't care."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "You guys could go out and pick us up subs," he suggests, and Ryan reaches in so that Annabel can grab at one of his fingers and hold on tight.

"Sure," Jon says. "So long as you guys stump up the cash."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "I can't believe we're practicing to a _schedule_ ," he says, under his breath. "This is not rock'n'roll."

"No," Spencer says, hitting Ryan in the arm. "But we have a baby now, so."

"Speaking of babies," Ryan says.

"No," Spencer says, "not now."

"What?" Brendon asks. Annabel's making noises, a whole conversation that Brendon feels like he should be concentrating on. He's just glad to have her by his side again.

Ryan shrugs at Spencer. "We need to figure out what we're going to say. About Annabel."

"How about nothing?" Brendon asks.

Ryan shakes his head. "We're taking her on _tour_ , Brendon. Like, she's going to be on the bus with you. You can't keep this a secret."

Jon sighs. "Ryan's right, guys."

Brendon glances at Spencer; he's looking fierce and he has his arms folded.

"It's no one's business," Brendon says, sulkily.

"I guess sometimes it doesn't work like that," Jon says. "I think we have to say something."

Brendon can feel the tension coming off him and Spencer in waves.

"We could do a blog post, I guess." Ryan says, after a moment.

"Not a bad idea," Jon says, shrugging his shoulder.

"I don't want to," Brendon says again. Annabel's reaching for his glasses, trying to grab hold and tug.

Spencer sighs. "Maybe you could, I don't know, write something we could look over, Ryan."

"I thought you were on my side," Brendon mutters. He leans back against the wall and hugs Annabel. His baby is not somebody else's news.

"I hate it as much as you do," Spencer says, "but they're right. Annabel's coming on tour with us, and so's Kali. It's not like you're leaving her at home."

"I couldn't," Brendon says, quickly.

"I know," Spencer says, helplessly. "I'm not saying that. I'm just saying, you know some of our fans, right? This is big news for some of them. We need to deal with it right."

Brendon swallows, and looks down at his feet. His glasses have Annabel's fingerprints smeared across them.

"I'll write something," Ryan says. "I'll write something and we'll figure out how to say it best. Okay?"

Ryan moves so he's next to Brendon, his elbow brushing Brendon's.

Brendon looks down at Annabel, who's smiling and tugging on his shirt and making noises Brendon wants to try and copy. "Okay," he says, after a while.

"Okay," Spencer echoes.

"Right," Jon says, "sandwiches."

Spencer reaches for his wallet.

\--

Kali arrives back from her lunch break and takes Annabel out of her chair, where Annabel's happily smacking her hands against the tray and trying to reach for her soft toy elephant. She starts to cry as soon as Kali picks her up; she's dropped her elephant and Kali hasn't noticed.

"Here," Brendon says, reaching down to pick up the elephant. "She dropped this. It's her favorite."

"Oh," Kali says, "well, we can't have you forgetting that, can we?" She touches at Annabel's nose with the elephant's trunk and Annabel giggles.

Brendon wants to tug his baby back and never let anyone else hold her ever, ever again. This sucks. Everything sucks.

Spencer squeezes Brendon shoulder, and Brendon wants to grab hold of his hand and not let go.

\--

 _We're getting ready to go on the road again. We've been making music together for the last couple of weeks, practicing our shit so you can come see a **show**. I fell over my guitar cable yesterday, and Spence made Jon tape down all the wires so it wouldn't happen again. Spence hit himself in the forehead with his drumsticks twice. His bruises are funnier than mine. _

_We're all pretty excited about going on tour because Brendon's bringing his baby on the road with us. It's been a lot of arranging - we're a rock band with a nanny, now - but we're all really excited to have her around. She's a lot of fun._

 _So, catch you there. It should be a good tour. - RR_

\--

"This is a really stupid idea," Brendon says, the night before they're supposed to leave for tour. Annabel, disturbed by the preparations, is refusing to sleep, or go down, and Brendon's left trying to pack his own bags with Annabel on his hip.

"What?" Spencer asks, from where he's trying to fit all of Annabel's clean bottles into a bag without unpacking the sterilizer and having to start all over again.

"Taking Annabel on tour," Brendon says, stuffing t-shirts straight out of the dryer into his duffle. "This is just such a stupid fucking idea. I'm such a bad dad."

"You're _not_ a bad dad," Spencer says, patiently, trying to get the zipper shut on Annabel's bag.

They have so much stuff, Brendon can hardly believe it. It was bad enough when it was just Brendon, trailing out of the house on tour with duffels and his laptop and video games and clothes and a new bong and all of his chargers and everything else he wanted to spread across a bus for however long they were on the road. Now it's Brendon and Annabel and Spencer and Kali, and it's six weeks with a four month old baby, and it's like a military operation, only without any organization at all. Mostly they're just dumping bags into the garage and hoping for the best.

"Diapers, formula, bottles, clothes, toys, the travel crib, first aid kit-" Spencer's going through the lists he's hastily scribbling and trying to hurry Brendon up. "The bus is going to be here in _six_ hours," Spencer says, for the fiftieth time in ten minutes. "Kali's going to be here in five, Annabel hasn't slept, _you_ haven't slept, I haven't slept, we need to get the instruments ready, have you packed _any_ pants at all? Where the fuck are those baby bowls you bought?"

"Who the fuck thinks weaning is a good thing to start trying on a _tour bus_ ," Brendon says, juggling a grumpy Annabel, a pile of vaguely dry shirts and trying to find a bag full of baby food and bowls with pictures of penguins, monkeys and elephants all over them.

"I'm pretty sure they're not going to get any kind of security deposit back," Spencer agrees, jumping in to try and catch the pile of clothes Brendon's dropping all over the floor. "Plus, you know, we can always wait until after the tour's over."

Brendon trips over one of the bags full of Annabel's stuff, almost drops the baby, swears and sits down on the floor. "I'm not going," he says. "I'm just going to stay here, with the baby, and spend the rest of my life not leaving the house."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "You're such a fucking drama queen," he says, and he leans over and takes Annabel. "Your daddy is a drama queen," he says, straightening her cardigan and sticking his tongue out at her. "You want to come on tour, don't you, sweetheart?"

Annabel makes a noise that possibly only dogs could hear, and reaches for Spencer's beard.

"That's a yes," Spencer says. "She wants to go on tour. Fucking stand up and go pack your shit."

"What about _your_ shit?" Brendon asks, huffily, clambering to his feet and dusting himself off. They need to clean the kitchen floor more regularly.

"Done," Spencer says. "Bags are in the garage."

"When did you even get time to pack?" Brendon asks.

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Daddy is an idiot," he says to Annabel. "I finished packing when you were passed out on the couch in front of Sesame Street."

"Sesame Street rocks," Brendon says grumpily. "And don't tell my baby lies. She needs to know how awesome I am."

"She needs to go to fucking _sleep_ ," Spencer says. "Why don't you look sleepy, Annabel?"

Brendon narrows his eyes. "Because she is a mutant. We've covered this."

"Okay," Spencer says, after a moment. "We need to figure out what else we need to do."

"Go on," Brendon says, with a long-suffering sigh. "I'll let you make a list."

Spencer flips him off and reaches for a pen.

\--

Brendon wakes up to the sound of the front door. A moment later, Kali's standing in the living room doorway with her hands on her hips, almost as if tripping into a messy room to find Brendon and Spencer passed out on the couch in their clothes from yesterday was something _unusual_.

"Um," Brendon says, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. "Hi?"

"Hi," Kali says, raising an eyebrow.

Spencer rolls over and buries his face in a pile of Annabel's clothes. "I'm not going," he says, and his voice is muffled. "I'm just going to stay here and sleep."

Brendon pokes him with his foot. "Come on," he says. "Shut up. I'll put the coffee on."

"Have we emptied the fridge?" Spencer asks, stumbling off the couch and stretching. "Have we put the trash out?"

"Don't know, and no," Brendon says, yawning. "I should go get Annabel up. What time is it?"

"Time you were in the shower," Kali says, disapprovingly. "I'll get Annabel up and dressed."

Brendon fights the urge to push her back out the front door and into the street. Nobody gets Annabel up apart from him. And Spencer, but Spencer doesn't count.

Spencer touches at Brendon's elbow, and Brendon deflates.

"Go shower," Spencer says, "and I'll put the coffee on. Then we can try and pretend like we're ready to be picked up."

"We're not ready to be picked up," Brendon points out. They're really not. There's crap everywhere, and he can't remember whether he packed Annabel any pants. Or socks. "Is my baby going to be in onesies this whole tour?" he asks, stumbling up the stairs to the bathroom.

"Possibly," Spencer yells back from the kitchen. "She'll rock them, though."

Brendon grins. She will.

\--

The excitement of being on the bus wears off after about two hours. Annabel is travel sick and cranky, crying a lot and refusing to let anyone other than Brendon or Spencer hold her. Kali is reading a magazine and peeling a banana. Spencer's trying to sort out all the bags of Annabel's crap, but he looks tired and hollow-eyed already. They barely got two hours sleep between them, and they've got a full day's traveling and Annabel's difficult to take when she's crying all the time and there's no escape.

Annabel's already spit up formula all over her t-shirt, and Brendon can't find any of her clothes, and Kali's being no help whatsoever, and he wants to sleep, or play video games, or hang out with Jon and Ryan. He can't, though, because he has a _baby_ , a baby who won't shut up or go down or be happy with any of her toys. They've forgotten her toy elephant, either that or packed it really well. Brendon blames Kali for getting Annabel up; if Brendon had done it he wouldn't have forgotten it. There's milk and drool all down Brendon's shirt and they're only a few hours in but Brendon's about ready to scream.

In the end, though, it's Spencer who comes over and takes a protesting, squirming Annabel out of Brendon's arms and starts walking her up and down the bus. She doesn't quiet, she just starts screaming louder, and Spencer rolls his eyes and turns around.

"Go check if her crib's all set up in the back lounge, will you?" he asks, because they'd managed to get a bus with the back lounge all ripped out, so they could fit it up for the baby. It'd be kind of cool if Brendon wasn't dropping with exhaustion and getting a headache from Annabel's constant crying.

Brendon goes to check, and he makes sure the curtains are closed and all the foam, squishy inserts are in place so that Annabel doesn't have room to roll over and hurt herself as the bus moves. He trips over a bag on the way back out into the lounge, and after he's sworn and hopped around on one foot, he tugs open the zipper to find a pile of Annabel's clothes. It's a bit like winning the lottery.

"Hey," he says, "Spence, I found her onesies! We can change her!"

Spencer just grins. "You're way too excited about that."

"She's covered in baby puke," Brendon says, hunting around for the diaper bag and the changing mat. "My baby is disgusting."

"Don't say that," Spencer says, covering her ears. She's still crying, tears sliding down her cheeks. Kali doesn't look up from her magazine. "She's gorgeous, aren't you?"

"Gorgeous and covered in baby puke," Brendon says grimly, kneeling down and holding his hands out for Annabel so he can change her clothes.

He ends up changing her diaper too, and she screams the whole time, trying to roll over. Spencer tries singing to her - they _both_ try singing to her - but it doesn't work and she just screams louder.

"This is a fucking disaster," Brendon says, trying to do her poppers up as she wriggles across the mat. "She hates me."

"She's exhausted," Spencer says, and he picks her up and shushes her, bouncing her up and down. "She's just about cried out, look at her."

Brendon does. His baby is so, so tired. She doesn't know where she is and everything smells different and looks different and she probably feels sick. Brendon definitely does. It's not fair, and she's only a baby and suddenly Brendon feels really crappy. "Come on," he says, "come on baby girl, let's get you to bed. You'll feel better once you've slept."

Annabel doesn't agree, because she just screams louder when they put her down and turn off the lights and pull the door closed.

Brendon and Spencer are left leaning up against the bunks looking miserable.

"What happens if she doesn't settle?" Brendon asks, after a while. He's looking at his watch, counting down two minutes. He doesn't like leaving her crying by herself for long.

"She will," Spencer says, with a confidence Brendon can't find. "She's exhausted."

"I don't mean right now," Brendon says. "I mean, what if she's like this the whole tour. What do we do then?"

Spencer shrugs. "We'll figure something out."

Brendon nods. He's tired too, but Annabel's still crying.

Spencer runs a hand through his hair. "I think she's quietening," he says, softly.

Brendon listens, and nods. She hiccups, and then there's silence, and still time on the clock.

"We should get some sleep too," he says, and Brendon can't argue. He tumbles into his bunk, waiting until he hears Spencer pull his shoes off and tell Kali what they're doing, and then climb into his own bunk. He waits for a moment before closing his eyes; he imagines curling up next to Spencer and falling asleep with his fingers brushing Spencer's skin. He squeezes his eyes tight shut and takes a deep breath.

\--

They pull into a rest stop after lunch, and Jon and Ryan stumble onto Brendon and Annabel's bus and look vaguely surprised by the mess. They look vaguely surprised by most things, really, and Brendon narrows his eyes and points out that just because _they_ can smoke up, it isn't fair to rub everyone else's noses in it.

Jon just laughs and leans in for a hug. "Dude," he says, "we're on fucking _tour_."

"I _know_ ," Brendon says, and he starts to laugh. He feels better now he's had some sleep. Annabel's been up and gone down again, much to his relief. She was in a really terrible mood, grumpy and fretful and crying all the time. She was hard work today, and Brendon needed some space. He didn't know what it was going to feel like, five weeks down the line. "Fucking _tour_ , guys."

"Fucking hotel tonight, too," Ryan says, with a grin.

Brendon usually loved the first night of tour, everyone excited and partying and hanging out after so long apart from each other. He still hadn't caught up properly with Zack, and Zack hadn't met Annabel properly yet. He was really excited about introducing them. The idea of moving all of Annabel's stuff from the bus to the hotel, though, that was a fucking awful idea. "No fucking way," Brendon says, resolutely, shaking his head. "I am not shifting all of her stuff in and then out again, not when we haven't even unpacked anything. We're staying on the bus tonight."

"I can still stay in the hotel, right?" Kali asks. She's looking inside her purse, and finishing up with her magazine. "I mean, if you've got Annabel on the bus, then you won't need me tonight, right?"

"Um," Brendon says. "I guess not."

Spencer raises his eyebrows at Brendon. Brendon tries not to think about all the nannying his nanny _isn't_ doing, and he rolls his eyes.

"I'm going to go pick up a magazine or something," Kali says, reaching for a jacket. "I won't be long."

After the door's closed, Spencer sighs. "We can leave her here, right? Just drive off and leave her?"

Ryan rolls his eyes. "Has she even picked up Annabel today?"

"She forgot Annabel's elephant," Spencer says, darkly.

Brendon busies himself looking for a carton of Capri-Sun, and tries not to think about how much hassle everyone is putting up with for the sake of him and his baby.

\--

Spencer refuses to spend the night in the hotel either, not if Brendon's going to be stuck out on the bus by himself. Brendon makes a half-assed attempt to persuade Spencer to take up his hotel room, but really, secretly, he'd rather Spencer was out on the bus with him.

Brendon _knows_ that Spencer isn't going to be around forever. He tells himself again and again that one day Spencer is going to meet a nice girl, and they're going to start dating and then they're going to start wanting tiny Spencer babies all of their own. He _knows_ this, and he knows that one day he and Annabel are just going to go back to just being Spencer's bandmate and his bandmate's kid, but until that day comes when Spencer inevitably leaves him for his own family, Brendon just wants to make the most of it. He wants to fight over who picks Annabel up or puts Annabel down, and he wants to make stupid, outrageous deals about who doesn't have to make up Annabel's next bottle. He wants to fight over the bathroom and the coffee machine and he wants to keep seeing what Spencer looks like, first thing in the morning, with his hair all sticking up and his t-shirt creased and his pants hanging low on his hips. He wants all that and _more_ , but he can't have it, and he knows it. Spencer doesn't want _more_.

Still, they pull into the hotel parking lot pretty early on in the evening, and Annabel's awake and pretending to be slightly less grumpy than she's been all day, so Brendon finds her a cardigan and a fresh pair of socks, and Spencer finds her diaper bag and a mismatching change of clothes and a blanket, and then they're both head inside to hang with everyone else.

Spencer won't let Brendon and Annabel out of the bus until Zack's there to escort them.

"This is _stupid_ ," Brendon says. "No one knows we're here. We only want to go across the parking lot."

"Hmmm," Spencer says, and Brendon's reminded that he hasn't actually asked too many questions about how the fans received Ryan's blog about Annabel. He swallows, and holds Annabel closer, trying to search through the diaper bag with one hand to find her a hat.

They don't have to wait long for Zack. He comes onto the bus and claps Brendon on the shoulder, saying, "Is this her?" and pointing at Annabel.

Brendon just bumps Zack's chest with his shoulder. Zack's _amazing_ , and Zack hasn't met his daughter yet.

"Sure," Brendon says. "Annabel, this is Zack. He's going to be your climbing frame, so you have to remember who he is, okay? And Zack, this is Annabel, who is the smartest baby in the world and knows all about you."

Brendon is always really, really amused by how people talk to Annabel. Spencer talks to her like he talks to Brendon, telling her about drums or music or what's on TV. Ryan is awkward and tries not to make eye contact with her, in case she gets him with her baby ray or whatever. Jon keeps telling her how pretty she is, which is sort of ridiculously charming. Annabel makes grown men cute, Brendon thinks, and he tries not to think about the way his heart beats quicker whenever he sees Spencer holding her.

Zack blinks and picks her up. She's tiny, tiny, _tiny_ against his chest, and Brendon wants to stop and take a picture because Zack is staring down at her and Brendon would swear that Zack has hearts for eyes. "Who's the prettiest baby, huh?" Zack says, and he's making the same voice Brendon's dad does when he talks to her, that special baby voice that usually makes Brendon laugh.

"Shut the fuck up," Zack says in his normal voice, without turning around. Spencer and Brendon just grin. "So you're Annabel, huh?"

Annabel stares at him with wide eyes, and very cautiously holds out a hand.

Zack just nods, very seriously, and holds out a finger.

"What's it like out there?" Spencer asks, after a moment. Brendon can't speak because of the cute.

"Few kids around," Zack says, offhandedly. "There's a few of them hanging around outside, now, told them to get the fuck out of the lobby."

"Okay," Spencer says.

"They keep asking about the baby, though," Zack says. "Just to warn you."

"My baby is not news," Brendon says, fiercely.

"She kind of is, dude," Zack says, apologetically. "You know two thirds of these girls hanging around want to marry you. Now they want to marry you _and_ your baby."

"They don't get Annabel," Brendon says, mutinously.

Spencer laughs. "But they can have you?"

"Shut up," Brendon says.

"Come on," Spencer says, "let's get it over with. Give me the diaper bag."

Zack hands Annabel back to Brendon, but not before there's a complicated moment where Annabel steadfastly refuses to give Zack his finger back. She looks decidedly disgruntled when Brendon succeeds in detaching her.

"Ready?" Zack asks.

"Sure," Brendon says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Aren't we, baby?"

Annabel sucks on her fist.

\--

There are about ten girls outside the hotel, all of them trying to look cool in their skinny jeans and their converse or their multi-colored tights and skirts. They run over when they see Brendon and Spencer heading out of the bus, and Brendon carrying Annabel. He cradles her closer and starts walking faster.

"Is this your baby?" they ask, and "What's her name?"

Brendon just ducks his head and walks faster. Normally he'll smile or maybe sign a few autographs but right now he has one priority and it's getting Annabel inside; he's the one in the band, not her. He's the one they know, not her.

Spencer looks grim and shifts so he's walking on Brendon's other side, nearer to the girls.

"Can we have your autograph?" they ask, and Spencer snaps.

"Not now," he says, and Brendon shoots him a grateful smile. They've all got their cameraphones out or their cameras and Annabel's whimpering as the flashes go off.

"Come on," Brendon says to Zack, and he has to stop himself from speeding up and running away from them. They're crowding around him, crowding around his _baby_ , and it's the worst feeling in the world. Annabel starts to cry, and Zack's got one hand on his back, Spencer another, and they're guiding him inside. He's _scared_ and he doesn't ever remember feeling like that before around fans.

It's a horrible feeling.

Zack's waving over the security guards when they get inside the lobby, but Brendon's heading for the elevators and Spencer's next to him, crowding him into a corner where no one can see him and Annabel.

"Spence," Brendon says, in a small voice.

"Fuck," Spencer says, angrily. " _Fuck_."

In the elevator, Spencer holds his arms out and Brendon slides into them so that Annabel's pressed up against both of their chests. She whimpers and clutches at their jackets.

"We're going to need to up the security detail," Zack says, and Brendon doesn't care, he just presses closer to Spencer and shuts his eyes.

\--

In the morning, Brendon takes Annabel over to the hotel to give her her bath. Zack, bleary-eyed and technically off duty, comes over to ensure that no one freaks Annabel out or gets too close. It's okay though, because it's really fucking early and there's hardly anyone around. Zack sits on the closed seat of the toilet and watches Brendon bathe Annabel.

"Never thought I'd see this, dude," Zack says. He's in jeans and a massive hoody because it's still January, if only for another couple of days. Zack's kind of like Brendon, normally, warm-blooded and peeling his clothes off, but now he just looks tired and cold.

"What?" Brendon asks. He makes a face at his daughter and she laughs, splashing her hands and feet.

"I dunno," Zack says. "Just, you. A dad. Half of the last tour I was still carrying _you_ around."

"I'm still expecting piggy backs," Brendon tells him. He's forgotten to bring a spare shirt over with him, and this one's soaked through. Annabel's baths usually end up soaking everything in sight. He hadn't _really_ figured out what they were going to do on the bus, yet. He's half-inclined to bathe her in the sink in the kitchen. "I just think Annabel will want them too."

"Yeah, that figures," Zack says. "Like father, like daughter."

Brendon pretends to look outraged, then dissolves into laughter as Annabel tries to copy him. A four and a half month old baby attempting to look outraged is kind of amazing.

Zack shakes his head. "She's pretty cute, though."

"The cutest," Brendon says, nodding seriously as Annabel smiles and wriggles in the bathwater. "She's basically the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me."

There's a pause, and then Zack leans forward and claps him on the back. "Yeah," he says. "Congratulations, man."

"Thanks," Brendon says, and then Annabel splashes water right in his face and all down his shirt and jeans, and behind him, Zack starts to laugh.

"Rather you than me, though."

Brendon flips him off and reaches for Annabel's towel. "That's enough water for one day, I think, don't you?"

Annabel doesn't agree and she cries the whole time Brendon's drying her and getting her dressed.

"Yes, I know," Brendon says, "I'm the worst daddy in the world, I get it. First I make you get in the horrible bath, and then I make you get _out_ of the horrible bath, and then I dress you in amazing new clothes that your mommy sent, and I get it, I do. I'm a very bad person."

Annabel sniffles and stops crying.

"That's better," Brendon says, and pulls her hoodie over her head.

"Her mom?" Zack asks, kind of carefully.

"Uh-huh," Brendon says. "We email. She sent Annabel a Christmas gift, but they were too big. She looks really cool though, right?"

He shows Annabel off, twirling her around so that Zack can see her little jeans and her tiny hoodie.

"But she's not around?" Zack asks.

Brendon shakes his head. "Just me," he says. "That was the deal."

"Okay," Zack says, and then he holds his hands out for Brendon to load him up with all the crap Annabel seems to trail wherever she goes, clothes and diaper bags and wet towels and bath toys.

\--

On the bus, Spencer and Ryan are standing in the kitchen, looking fierce.

"What's up?" Brendon asks, dropping Annabel's stuff on the floor and making room for Zack to do the same.

Ryan and Spencer exchange glances.

"What?" Brendon asks.

"Kali was hanging out with the lobby creepers last night," Ryan says, awkwardly.

The lobby creepers are what they call the girls who hang out outside their hotels, bugging them when they're trying to get some sleep or trying to traipse in and out of the bus at all times of the day or night. They're kind of Brendon's least favorite of all the fans.

Brendon swallows, and looks at Spencer. "Spence?" he says.

"It's true," Spencer says, nodding his head.

"Maybe she didn't know who they were," Brendon says.

"Hmm," Zack says. "Where is she now?"

"Still back at the hotel, I guess," Ryan says, shrugging his shoulders.

"Okay," Zack says, "I'll go find her and have a word. You got a back-up option, Brendon?"

Brendon presses a kiss into Annabel's hair. "No," he says, and tries to figure out what the fuck he's supposed to do if it turns out Kali isn't going to be his nanny anymore.

Ryan, Spencer and Zack all exchange glances, and Brendon pretends not to see.

\--

"What if Annabel's not okay?" Brendon asks, biting his lip and jumping from foot to foot. It's the first meet and greet of the tour and Brendon's left Annabel with Kali. They've got another couple of minutes while Zack finishes giving his _don't be creepy_ talk to the line of fans, and then it's their turn to file in and wave and sign a fuck-load of CD sleeves and have their photos taken.

"She'll be fine," Jon says, but Brendon _knows_ they're all worried.

Spencer's been on the phone to the nanny agencies most of the afternoon, but the chances of interviewing someone over the phone and getting them out to join the tour even at this early stage are really low. Finding someone new is going to be _really_ fucking hard, and until then they have to make do with Kali. Zack had spoken to her that morning about not hanging out with the fans and about what was and wasn't acceptable behavior. Spencer had had to talk to her that afternoon about professional expectations, and she'd _said_ that she was sorry, and that she wouldn't do it again, but Brendon didn't know her well enough to trust her, and he _still_ had to leave his baby with her.

"Let's just get this over and done with quickly, okay?" Spencer says, coming over and folding his arms.

Normally they liked meet and greets; sure, they were kind of repetitive and signing your name over and over again could get kind of annoying, but they could be _fun_ , too. They got to take ridiculous pictures with fans and there were stupid gifts and nervous kids trying to make them laugh. They usually made some kind of bet between themselves too, for stupidest outfit or whatever, but the atmosphere tonight was tense and taut.

Zack comes back and sticks his head around the door. "We'll rush 'em through quick tonight, guys," he says, and Brendon nods, miserably. He texts Kali, _hows annabel? snd phto_ , and then he swallows and squares his shoulders and follows Ryan and Jon out into the hall to cheers.

When they sit down, Spencer touches him in the small of the back, and Brendon leans back into his hand, grateful.

\--

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he tugs it out, opening up the picture message. It's Annabel, asleep in her crib. Brendon lets out a long breath and passes his phone to Spencer, and then to Jon and Ryan, who waves it at Zack.

Zack catches Brendon's eye, and nods, and Brendon tries to catch his breath. He wants his baby, and he wants her _now_.

\--

A girl hands him a gift, and she blushes as he takes it.

"What's this?" he asks, and then he's turning it over in his hand and it's a black ribbon bracelet with Annabel's name picked out in letter beads.

"It's for you," she says, quickly, turning even redder. "That's your baby's name, right?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, turning it over and over in his hand. "Fuck," he says, "this is great. Spence, put it on me, look."

Spencer finishes signing yet another Pretty.Odd. CD sleeve and leans over. "That's awesome," he agrees, "here, let me." He takes the ribbon and wraps it around so that it says _Annabel_ across the bridge of Brendon's wrist. The ribbon's long enough to wrap around twice, and on the second time, Spencer ties it in half a knot and then presses his thumb to Brendon's pulse point. "Is that tight enough?" he asks.

Brendon's breath catches. "Yeah," he says, and his skin tingles. "Yeah," he says again, as Spencer ties the ends of the ribbon into a knot and then into a double knot, "that's good."

"Come on," Zack says, loudly, "hurry it up, kids."

Brendon throws the girl a grateful smile. "Thanks," he says. "This is really cool, thanks."

She blushes bright red and ducks her head. "Glad you like it," she says.

"I do," Brendon says, and then someone slides a Pretty.Odd. CD sleeve across the table at him and he picks up his sharpie again.

\--

He rushes back to the bus the moment the meet and greet is over, ducking straight into the back lounge to check on Annabel. She's sleeping, her eyelashes dark against her cheek. He touches at her skin, listening to the soft sound of her breathing.

"Love you," he murmurs, softly.

When he stands up, it's to find Spencer leaning up against the doorframe. Brendon hadn't even heard him follow him in. He's silhouetted in the half-light from the hallway, his hair falling into his eyes, his arms folded.

"She okay?" Spencer asks, after a moment.

"Yeah," Brendon says, nodding. He remembers New Year's Eve, and what it felt like to kiss Spencer, to have Spencer kiss him. He wonders if Spencer even remembers. They've all kissed hundreds of people at parties, over the years. Drunken kissing is what makes tours go on and on and on.

"You okay?" Spencer asks.

"Thirsty," he says. "Think there are any Capri-Suns in the kitchen?"

"If you remembered to bring them from home," Spencer tells him, and Brendon throws one last look at Annabel and follows Spencer out into the hall.

Kali's in the living room with the TV on. She's painting her fingernails, and Brendon wrinkles his nose at the smell.

She nods at them, and Brendon sits down with his juice and watches the end of _America's Next Top Model_ while Spencer makes a sandwich.

\--

Kali sends Brendon a text after the third show that says, _annabell sleepin, dont hurry bak, tak ur time._

Brendon shrugs and lets Spencer take the first shower. He's tired; he lets his head tip back against the back of the couch in the dressing room and lets Ryan slip in to the shower after Spencer's done. He's third in line, though, and Jon's the only one waiting when he comes out.

He's dressed, picking up his towels from the floor and pulling on his socks and shoes when Ryan pushes open the door of the dressing room; Ryan says, breathlessly, "Brendon, it's Annabel-" and Brendon's running down the hallway before he's even let Ryan finish.

There's shouting coming from the parking lot. He can hear Zack's voice over everyone else's. He pushes through the doors and outside; it's cold and he hasn't picked up his hoodie.

"Annabel," he yells, and then, "Spencer-"

Spencer's got Annabel and he's hurrying across the parking lot towards Brendon. He's looking angrier and grimmer than Brendon's seen him in a long time, and as soon as he's close enough, he bundles a crying Annabel into Brendon's arms and tugs him towards the bus.

"What the fuck's going on?" Brendon asks, bewildered. There are a crowd of fans over by the fence; there are camera flashes and shouts. Brendon holds Annabel closer and ducks his head and hides behind Spencer's back as they hurry towards the bus. "Where's Kali?"

"Kali no longer fucking works for us," Spencer bites out.

"What the fuck?" Brendon asks, but Annabel's screaming now, screaming and clinging on to him and it's so fucking cold, it's ridiculous.

"Come on," Spencer says, and tugs Brendon inside the bus. He's already reaching for blankets for Annabel and switching the lights on and making sure the curtains are closed. Brendon's shivering.

"Baby, baby, baby," Brendon says, kissing her and wrapping her tightly in the blankets. "Everything's okay, I'm here now. Me and Spencer are here."

She just keeps on crying.

"What the fuck is going on?" Brendon asks again, and his daughter is _cold_ and she's supposed to be asleep. "Tell me-"

"Kali was letting them photograph her," Spencer says, and Brendon's blood runs cold.

"She was _what_?"

"That's why she was outside," Spencer says. "Kali took her outside so that the fans could get photos."

Brendon can't hear over the rushing in his ears. "Where the fuck is she now?" Brendon manages. He's rubbing at Annabel's arms, trying to warm her up.

"She's not coming back here," Spencer says. "Zack's got her. I think he's taking her on to the techs' bus."

"Fuck," Brendon says. "It's too cold in here, put the fucking heater on, come on."

All Kali's stuff is all over the couch, and there's no where to sit down. Brendon kicks at it, and Spencer comes over and sweeps everything onto the floor.

"Fuck," Spencer says, and he's fiddling with the heater, trying to get it to come on.

"Hurry up," Brendon says, "she's _cold_."

"I'm _trying_ ," Spencer says, and then there's heat, wonderful heat, and Brendon's dropping to his knees before the heater and Spencer's wrapping the blankets more securely around Annabel, and she's finally, finally starting to warm up.

"How the fuck dare she," Brendon starts, and his voice shakes. "Annabel's a _baby_ and she took her outside and she wasn't warm enough-"

"I know," Spencer says, and he pulls off his own hoodie and makes Brendon put it on, ignoring Brendon's protestations. He drops his chin to his chest and wraps an arm around Brendon's shoulders. "I know."

"You'll be cold," Brendon says, after a moment.

"I'll be fine," Spencer says. "I'll go find another hoodie in a minute."

Brendon lets himself lean against Spencer and rest his head on Spencer's shoulder. Annabel whimpers and squirms and snuffles and finally, quiets.

\--

"You okay?" Ryan asks, a while later. He rubs at Brendon's shoulder, and Brendon sighs. Annabel's asleep in his lap, pink-cheeked and _warm_. Spencer's in the kitchen, making them all a drink. Outside, there are still noises, people talking and occasionally Zack's voice over everyone else's.

"Yeah," Brendon says. He's not; his chest hurts and he isn't going to forgive himself anytime soon for leaving Annabel in Kali's care and protection.

"I've already left three messages on the nanny agency's voicemail," Spencer says, grimly, coming over with mugs of hot chocolate in both hands. "I'm pretty sure they're not going to be hiring Kali again any time soon."

"Good," Brendon says, savagely. "I'm going to fucking yell at them in the morning."

"I'm pretty sure everyone here is going to call them up and yell at them," Jon says. He's sitting on Brendon's other side, stroking Annabel's hand.

"You were fucking awesome, though, Spence," Ryan says, and Brendon's head shoots up.

"What?"

Spencer flushes. "Yeah, well. The nanny agency aren't the only people I've yelled at this evening."

Ryan grins, and leans against Brendon's side. "He went batshit at Kali, is what he means to say. I'm pretty sure the fans caught it on camera."

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you're going to be able to see those videos online tomorrow," he says. "Remind me in the future to check whether anyone's recording when I fire someone."

"Oh," Jon says, "come on. Technology's come pretty far. They're probably online already."

"Fuck off," Spencer says, pushing Jon.

"We could google you now," Jon goes on. "See you in action."

Brendon shivers. "Not until I've forgotten how cold Annabel was," he says, and Spencer nods his agreement. Brendon waits a moment, touching at Annabel's arm, making sure she's comfortable. "I want Kali off the fucking tour," Brendon says, after a minute. "I don't ever want her near my daughter again."

"She's fucking _gone_ ," Spencer says, vehemently. "Zack says we're making a detour to leave her at the airport in the morning."

"Good," Brendon says, and he hugs Annabel closer, because it's _his_ fault she was put at risk. He should never have left her with someone he felt uncomfortable around. At some point he's going to have to figure out how to tell the difference between following his instincts and being an overprotective father, but right now he can't make it out.

"What are you going to do?" Jon asks, quietly.

"Jon," Spencer says. "Not now."

Brendon shrugs. "I don't know," he says, and he doesn't. He has no fucking clue. He can't go on stage and he can't do interviews and he can't be in a fucking rock band if he hasn't got anyone to look after Annabel. He _can't_. His chest feels tight and maybe his hands are shaking, but he has a baby now, and she's got to be his number one priority. If Annabel isn't safe and happy and secure because her daddy's in a rock band, then maybe her daddy can't be in a rock band anymore.

Ryan touches his shoulder. "We'll figure something out," he says, and Brendon doesn't know if he means _we'll figure something out for when you're not here_.

Brendon nods, and ducks his head so he can kiss Annabel's forehead.

\--

\--

Brendon's in the lounge with his iPod on low, one earbud out so he can listen out for Annabel. He's tired; he barely slept. He's used to staying up late and he's used to partying and he's used to the rhythm of being on tour, even though it can take a few days to slip in and out of. He's not used to doing it all with Annabel along, he's not used to being concerned about someone else's welfare even more than his own. He's not used to the worry and the anxiety and the stress; he's not used to having people whisper and talk in corners and look concerned.

They're parked up by the airport; Spencer had taken a bag of Kali's stuff over to the techs' bus to hand over, leaving Brendon and Annabel by themselves.

After a while, the door opens, but it isn't Spencer coming back, it's Zack.

"Oh," Brendon says. "Hey."

Zack nods, and comes to sit down. "You okay, dude?"

Brendon nods. "Sure," he says.

"Okay," Zack says. "How's Annabel?"

"Freaked out," Brendon says, softly. "Freaked out by this whole fucking tour. I should never have brought her."

"Kali's gone," Zack says. "We just put her on the plane."

"That's good," Brendon says, dully. He doesn't ever want Kali near to his baby ever again, but he still doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to do now. He's contracted to do the tour; he doesn't know what will happen if he tries to pull out. He can't have Annabel with him, not without someone there to look after her. He can't even think about being away from her, about having one of his family take her for the next few weeks, even if they could.

"You got any ideas?" Zack says, after a minute. "About what you're going to do next?"

Brendon shrugs. "Quit? I dunno."

Zack makes a face. "Look," he says. "I've got this cousin."

"Uh-huh?"

"Yeah," Zack says. "She's just broken up with her stupid no-good asshole of a boyfriend-"

Brendon raises an eyebrow.

"Her boyfriend was a fucking asshole," Zack says again. "She's just had to move back to her mom's place, and she's looking for a job. I wouldn't say anything, but I know you're pretty desperate and she used to work with kids. I dunno. If you wanted, I could ask her."

Brendon sits up. "She's worked with kids? Has she got references?"

"She's worked in daycare for a few years," Zack says. "I don't think she's ever worked as a nanny. She only quit because her asshole boyfriend terminated the lease on their place and she had nowhere to live."

"Asshole," Brendon says.

"Yeah." Zack shrugs. "Look, I'm not into finding jobs for my family. Nepotism isn't my thing."

Brendon raises his eyebrows.

"I took the SATs too," Zack says, elbowing Brendon in the arm. He sighs. "But if you wanted to talk to Sara, I'd vouch for her. She's pretty cool, and she's great with kids."

"I could talk to her, at least," Brendon says, slowly. There's a tiny bud of hope unfurling in his chest.

"You want me to organize it?" Zack asks.

Brendon waits a moment, thinking about Annabel and how she was stuck being looked after by strangers on a bus that made her crotchety and uncomfortable. About how he couldn't leave her behind, not ever. "Yeah," Brendon says. "Yeah, Zack. That'd be awesome."

Zack claps him on the shoulder, and nods.

\--

Sara flies out the following day. She's had her references faxed over and both Spencer and Brendon have spoken to her old boss on the phone, Spencer asking question after question about her suitability. Brendon asks about how she is with kids, about how the kids respond to her. About the babies they had in the nursery, about whether Sara had ever worked with them. The responses are overwhelmingly positive, and Brendon is cautiously, carefully hopeful as they arrange to have her picked up from the airport and driven out to the venue to meet them there.

Annabel is placid and well behaved, for once not picking up on Brendon's anxious mood. He gets mad when she spits up on her clean top, just as they pull into the venue parking lot, but Spencer just rolls his eyes and sweeps Annabel up and goes to change her top in the bedroom. "Your daddy's all nervous," Brendon hears Spencer say. "He's all freaked out in case Sara doesn't like you. Well," Spencer goes on, and Brendon stands up and sneaks over to the bunks so he can hear better, "if Sara doesn't like you, then we'll arrange to have her taken out, okay? Or locked up, because if she doesn't like you then she must be crazy."

Brendon fights a grin, ducking his head.

"And you shouldn't listen to your daddy when he's this crazy, either," Spencer says, softly. "He loves you, kind of a lot. There," he goes on, and Brendon can hear Spencer picking her up. "You're back to looking clean again. Try not to spit up on this one for, like, fifteen minutes or something? Your daddy is pretty stressed out today."

Annabel gurgles in response, and Brendon ducks back into the kitchen as Spencer comes out, with Annabel on his hip.

"Here," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "You want her?"

Brendon holds his hands out. "Hey, baby, baby," he says, softly. Annabel leans into his side, pressing closer, and Brendon closes his eyes for a moment. He really, really wants Sara to work out, so that he can stay on tour and Annabel can stay with him.

Spencer leans over and cups Brendon's elbow. "Hey," Spencer says. "It'll be okay, alright? Even if Sara doesn't work out, we'll figure something."

Brendon nods, even though he knows it isn't true. There aren't any more options, there's just this one, and giving up.

\--

Sara seems nice. She arrives in jeans and a hoodie, and she asks tons of questions about Annabel's routine, and about Brendon's routine, and about what Brendon expects of her. She's really professional, just like Zack, and Brendon's reassured by the vague familial resemblance, something in her smile that reminds him of Zack. She doesn't ask to hold Annabel until Brendon's willing to part with her, which takes a couple of hours. Spencer asks her hypothetical question after hypothetical question, what would she do if they were on stage and she needed Brendon, what would she do if she was approached by fans, what did she understand by Annabel's right to privacy. She answers them all thoughtfully and okay, she's clearly never been on tour before, or even looked after a baby outside of daycare, but she's used to children and Brendon's inclined to believe that being partially responsible for a nursery full of children is proof enough of her ability to look after Annabel. She's not so sure about how the band works, about how traveling alongside a band is going to work, but Brendon's impressed by her answers and what seems like her steadfast responsibility to Annabel's welfare.

"Okay," Brendon says, after what seems like forever. He glances at his watch, they've been at this for over two hours. "Okay, that's enough. I'm happy. We should go for a trial period."

Spencer agrees. "Look," he says, "I've had some papers drawn up and sent over from the management company. It's a privacy agreement," he goes on, and Brendon's kind of speechless, because they haven't talked about this, "and it just details what you can and can't do with any information about Annabel, or pictures of her, or whatever."

"Spencer-" Brendon starts.

Spencer doesn't look at him. "You'll need to take a look through it, read it through, obviously."

"Okay," Sara says, reaching for the papers. "Zack said there'd probably be something like this."

"Spence," Brendon hisses.

Spencer cups his elbow and leads him into the kitchen, far enough from Sara that they can pretend she can't overhear.

"What the fuck are _they_?" Brendon asks. He's angry, and he can't figure out if it's irrational or totally justified.

"Brendon," Spencer says, running his fingers through his hair. "Look," he says, "they're necessary, okay?"

"I never said they weren't. Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Or _ask_ me, at least?"

Spencer sighs. "Kali's answering questions online about Annabel's mom," he says, finally.

Brendon's chest tightens. "What the _fuck_?" he asks.

"She's put up some pictures, too, the one she sent you of Annabel sleeping. A few others, too."

Brendon wants to punch somebody. He wants to punch _Spencer_ , because Spencer's there and Spencer's telling him and he _hates_ that he's put Annabel in this sort of position. Instead, he tries to calm himself down and not freak out in front of Sara. He drags Spencer into the back lounge, next to Annabel's crib. "We can't stop her?" he asks, and his voice sounds hoarse. He's so angry it hurts.

Spencer shakes his head. "The lawyers are on it, but. It's probably too late for the pictures. They're out there, now. One good thing, though, she doesn't know fuck about Lucy. It's just stuff about how you're bringing her up alone."

"It was _not_ okay for you to keep this from me," Brendon says, in a low, tight voice.

"You had a lot on your mind," Spencer says, awkwardly. "I was trying to help."

"Fuck you," Brendon says. "You don't get to pick what to tell me when it's to do with my baby, Spence."

Spencer's shoulders tighten. "I'm trying to do you a _favor_ ," he says.

"No," Brendon says, and suddenly he feels more like an adult than he has, maybe ever. His shoulders hurt. "I need to trust that you'll tell me the important stuff. It's not the same anymore, I have Annabel. You don't get to choose anymore."

"Brendon-" Spencer starts. "I didn't mean-"

"I know," Brendon says. "I _know_. I get it. But you _can't_. Fuck, if I can't trust you, then-" _who else can I trust_. Brendon can't say anything else. His fists clench.

"Brendon," Spencer says, again. "I'm sorry, I never meant-" he tails off, letting out a deep breath. "You can trust me," he says, "you can _always_ trust me."

Brendon nods. "You've got to tell me stuff," he says, after a minute. "Promise me."

"Promise," Spencer says. "I promise."

From the front lounge, Brendon hears Annabel start to whimper. "Okay," Brendon says, quickly, and he nods, already half out of the door. "Okay."

When he gets into the lounge, Sara has Annabel on her lap, and they're already flicking through one of Annabel's books, Annabel trying to help to turn the pages. The whimpers have dissolved into laughs.

"She's really smart," Sara says, after a moment.

Brendon lets himself smile for what seems the first time in days. "I know," he says, "right?"

Behind him, Spencer leans against the door frame and sighs.

\--

For meet and greet that night, Brendon and Zack have Sara bring Annabel over into the conference room adjoining the auditorium. They leave Annabel sitting in Sara's lap as Zack finishes making his _don't be creepy_ speech, letting Annabel hold her rattle and a squishy penguin Spencer had found as a replacement for her elephant.

Brendon picks the seat nearest the doorway, and he keeps one ear out for her the whole way through. Some of the fans have bought gifts for Annabel, and Brendon accepts them all, putting them in a box by his feet. He's pretty sure Annabel's going to be the most spoiled kid in the whole of America at this rate. He signs a gazillion Pretty. Odd. album covers and one girl asks him to sign her skin, so she can get it inked. Zack has to intervene then, rolling his eyes and saying, "What did I say about not being creepy, huh?" which Brendon is pretty relieved about.

About fifteen girls bring him bracelets. Apparently there are pictures of him wearing his Annabel bracelet on the internet from the last couple of shows. "Cool," Brendon says, "thanks!"

He doesn't wear any of them this time, though, not until Ryan leans over and says, "Hey, these are really fucking cool. You think I can wear one?"

"Sure," Brendon says, because he's pretty sure the fans won't mind if at least one of the band are wearing their gifts. He holds out a handful and lets Ryan take them. "Take your pick."

"Dude," Jon says, leaning around Ryan. "Do I get one too?"

They hold up the line while they all fight over which bracelets they get to wear, and Spencer's left with the one that spells Annabel wrong, _anniebell_. Brendon ties Spencer's pretty loosely, and then nudges Spencer's knee under the table. "Thanks for arranging those papers," he says, softly.

Spencer nudges back. "Anytime," he says. "Still. Sorry."

Brendon nods, and reaches for his sharpie.

\--

They're getting towards the end of the signing line when Brendon hears Annabel start to cry.

"Hey," the girl in front of him says, smiling, "is that your baby crying?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, distractedly. He tries to catch Zack's eye to get him to check if Annabel's okay, but Zack's already on it, sending one of the other guys back into the conference room to make sure everything's okay. "She's with her nanny."

"She's really cute," the girl says, "I saw the pictures."

"She is," Brendon says, with one eye on the door. "She's kind of amazing."

He doesn't hear anything else from Annabel, and he tries to concentrate on each of things in front of him, signing his name in black sharpie. A couple of minutes later, the security guy comes back - Tony - and hands Brendon Sara's cellphone. It's open at a picture of Annabel, sitting in her seat with a piece of paper in her lap. It says, _i'm ok daddy pls dont worry_!

Brendon snorts a laugh and shows Spencer the phone, passing it down so Jon and Ryan can see too.

"I like her," Jon says.

"Yeah," Brendon says, passing the phone back to Tony and thanking him, "me too."

\--

Tour goes on and on, and Brendon starts to feel like he used to, back in the middle of something he loves. There are interviews at stupid times of the day and half of them ask him about Annabel. Brendon laughs a lot and feels anxious and talks about how he loves having her on tour, until Ryan or Jon take pity on him and take over. Half the time Annabel comes with them to radio studios or sits in with the magazine journalists, Sara playing with her and making her laugh.

One of the radio DJs spends two minutes talking about how cute Annabel is, and Brendon just beams and ducks his head as Spencer elbows him.

\--

Thing is, Annabel is _always_ hungry. She's sleeping less, waking up hungry. Brendon's mom says that she should be on solid food by now, but all the baby books he looks at say he should wait until six months. Annabel's almost five months old, and Brendon's exhausted and trying to cope with playing on stage every night and trying to spend time with his baby. In the end, Spencer hands Brendon the phone and tells him to call his pediatrician, if that'll help put his mind at rest. Brendon's worried, because babies are supposed to be breast-fed, and Annabel hasn't ever been, and what if that hurts her in the long run? It's hard, because all the paraphernalia says _breast is best_ but that's the one area Brendon can't offer anything more in than he is doing. He hates that he's letting his baby down, and it's tough that she's crying all the time because she's hungry.

His doctor says to try her on baby rice, which looks like vomit and doesn't smell much better.

"What the fuck _is_ this?" Brendon asks, wrinkling his nose.

Spencer comes and peers over Brendon's shoulder. Sara's over on the techs' bus, hanging out with Zack and beating everyone, ever, at video games. Brendon just wants it to be him, for Annabel's first proper meal. Him, and Spencer. He's told Spencer to stay so he can take pictures.

Annabel's in her stripy bouncing cradle in the lounge, strapped in and batting at the zoo animals hanging over her. She's kicking her legs and singing to herself, nonsense sounds in one long chorus.

Spencer makes a face. "That looks horrible," he says. "You think she's going to eat that?"

"I think she's going to throw it all over the bus," Brendon says, "Mom says we should try wearing trash bags over our clothes."

"She was joking, right?"

Brendon shrugs, grinning. "I don't know. Hopefully."

In the end, they pull shirts out of their laundry piles and put Annabel in her high chair and pull it up to the table. She smacks her palms against the tray and giggles, beaming at Spencer as he puts her bib on.

Brendon's chest constricts, and he tries not to let it show on his face. He keeps thinking about it, keeps thinking back to that night when Spencer had leaned up and kissed him, how Brendon wants that to be real. It's not, though, and it never will be and Brendon needs to figure out a way to keep it under control. He squares his shoulders and pulls over the bowl with the baby rice in, just enough for a few spoonfuls.

Annabel looks at it quizzically, and blinks. She tugs at her bib; it has an elephant on the front.

"Here we go, baby girl," Brendon says, "you ready for food?"

Annabel yawns, which Brendon takes as a _yes_. Spencer's got the camera ready, because Brendon wants everything photographed for posterity.

They get baby rice _everywhere_ , but Annabel takes four spoonfuls before Brendon pushes the bowl away. She has baby rice all over her face and down her bib and down her shirt and in her hair. Brendon has it down his shirt, too.

It's ridiculous, but Brendon's _proud_. He keeps telling her how proud he is as he unstraps her and lets Spencer help take her bib off, and then he's hugging her and sliding her onto his lap so that Spencer can wipe her hands and face, before Brendon gives her the remains of her bottle.

"Who's my favorite, smart baby, huh?" Brendon says, as Spencer kneels down with a damp cloth and wipes away the baby rice. Brendon kisses her forehead, and laughs as Spencer rolls his eyes and passes the damp cloth to Brendon when he's finished with Annabel.

"I am holding the baby," Brendon says, airily, and Spencer just laughs and then wipes Brendon's hands too.

"This is pretty cool," Spencer says, after a while. They've moved so that they're both lying on the floor in the lounge, Annabel propped up on cushions between them. She's chewing on her squishy penguin's head and making faces, laughing as Brendon plays peekaboo from behind a cushion.

"Yeah," Brendon says, hiding behind the cushion.

"I like it," Spencer goes on. "It's good when it's just us."

Brendon just nods and doesn't meet Spencer's eyes. He's still telling himself that he's going to have to get used to the idea of one day Spencer leaving, and meeting someone and having tiny Spencer babies of his own. He still can't get used to the idea that Spencer's not always going to be here, kissing his daughter's stupid face and refusing to care that he's got baby rice down his shirt.

"Not that I don't like Sara," Spencer says. "She's pretty awesome, for a nanny. But, you know. It's good when it's us."

Brendon nods. "Yeah," he says, sticking his tongue out at Annabel, who laughs. "Yeah, me too. I like it too, I mean."

"Good," Spencer says, and he lets Annabel wrap her hand around his finger.

Brendon ducks his head, then wrinkles his nose. "I think our baby's stinky," he says, making a face so that Annabel laughs again.

"I'll go," Spencer says, sitting up. "It's my turn."

"Okay," Brendon says, rolling onto his back. He's got to stop pretending they're a family. They're _not_. Spencer doesn't want him like that. Brendon can't ask for that, either. He groans, and buries his face in Annabel's cushion. "I am so _fucked_ ," he mutters, once he's sure Spencer's in the back room with Annabel. "Totally and completely _fucked_."

\--

At the meet and greet that night, there's a kid right at the very end of the line for signatures who looks really nervous and fierce all at the same time. When he gets to the table, he stumbles over his backpack strap and trips into the table, landing with his palms flat down on the table top. He goes bright red, especially when a group of kids behind him waiting in the line for photos all start to laugh.

"You okay, kid?" Jon asks.

The kid nods furiously, biting his lip. "Those guys go to my school," he admits, turning redder. "They always laugh at me."

Brendon's eyes narrow. He always could sympathize, but sometimes it seems sharper, somehow, now he has Annabel. "That sucks," Brendon says. "Are you here with your friends?"

There's a moment where the kid freezes, then he nods again, quickly. "Sure," he says. "They're outside."

"They didn't get meet and greet?" Jon asks, softer this time. The kids in the photo line are still pointing and laughing.

"No," he says, but he doesn't meet their gaze. Instead, he fiddles with the catch on his backpack. "I wanted you guys to sign my book, but that guy," he points at Zack, who had promised Brendon he'd hurry the meet and greet along so Brendon could get back to Annabel, who'd been sniffling all afternoon, "said it would take too long, but I don't have anything else for you to sign. So I just hung around the end of the line and figured I could, like, just say hey or something."

Brendon shoots a look at Zack, who's coming over to hurry the kid along. Brendon shakes his head, and Zack nods and stays back. "It's okay," Brendon says, to the kid. "We've got time, haven't we, guys? We can sign your book."

"What, really?" The kid smiles wide, and then tugs his bag open and starts searching through, until he pulls out a black, hardbacked notebook that's covered in scuffs. He drops it - to more laughs from the kids in the photo line - and then picks it up and pushes it across the table. "Thanks."

"Where do you want us to sign?" Jon asks, and he dislikes the kids in the photo line as much as Brendon does, he can tell.

"Oh, right." Flushed, the kid pulls the book back and then flicks to a clean page. It's a music composition book, and most of the staves are already full of scruffy notes, smudged writing scrawled across most of the pages. "Anywhere, there," he says, and pushes the book back towards Jon.

"Is this your stuff?" Jon asks, and when the kid nods, "do you mind if I take a look?"

"It's really messy," he says, awkwardly. "My handwriting sucks."

"That's okay," Jon says, "I just want to take a look."

Brendon hooks his chin over Jon's shoulder. "Do you write these yourself?" Brendon asks, interestedly. He's scanning the pages, humming the odd snatch in his mind. They're pretty good at first glance, definitely showing more than just promise.

"Yeah," he says. "I sing them. My music teacher says they're good."

"Yeah," Brendon echoes. "Your music teacher's right." He eyes the kids in the photo line, who are still pointing and staring. "How long have you got left at school?"

"I'm a junior," he says.

Brendon wants to say something else, like, _it'll get better_ , but it doesn't, not always. Brendon just got lucky, that's all. He wants to go and hug Annabel and tell her that he'll love her even if no one wants to be her friend at school. His heart skips at the thought.

Zack comes over. "Come on," he says, to Brendon, "we're short on time."

"Sure," Brendon says, and then he turns back to the kid. "What's your name?"

"Adam," the kid says. "I really love your music."

"Thanks," Brendon says. He waits while Jon signs his book, and then slides it sideways to Brendon. He's written, _don't let the bastards grind you down_ , then signed his name. Brendon grins, and reaches for his pen. He can't think of anything to say, so he just draws a big arrow and writes, _what he says_ , and signs. Ryan writes him a quote, and Spencer flicks through and says something Brendon can't catch, before leaning over Adam's book and signing.

Adam says thank you, and blushes red, and waves, and then he's gone.

"Jesus," Jon says. "Poor kid."

"I was that fucking kid," Brendon says, under his breath. "Fuck that shit."

He doesn't smile in any of the pictures with the kids from Adam's school, and as soon as the photos are over, he goes to see Annabel, scooping her up and hugging her close. It's easy to imagine that Annabel hasn't picked up any of Brendon's character traits that made the kids at school not want to be his friend, but Brendon's scared for her.

"Hey," Spencer says, coming over, and making a face at Annabel over Brendon's shoulder. "Stop it."

"What?" Brendon asks, distractedly. He kisses the top of Annabel's head.

"Worrying. Annabel's going to be fine."

"Not if she takes after me, she isn't," Brendon says, into Annabel's hair.

"Lead singer of Panic? Jesus, yeah, we should start worrying about her now."

"Fuck off," Brendon says. "That isn't what I meant."

Spencer rubs Brendon's shoulder. "I know," he says, after a moment. "You can't protect her against everything."

"I can try," Brendon says, savagely. He rubs Annabel's back, and she snuggles closer. She's tired.

"Yeah," Spencer says.

"Just," Brendon says, "Spence, that kid."

"I know," Spencer says. "But he's not Annabel. And he's not you, either."

"Might as well have been," Brendon says, softly.

"Yeah, and look how you ended up," Spencer tells him. "Seriously. Stop worrying."

"Okay," Brendon says, after a moment. He leans back into Spencer's hand, snug in the small of Brendon's back. He thinks that Spencer's kids are going to be so fucking lucky, having him for a dad. He thinks that Annabel's lucky to have him around, even if it's not going to be forever.

Spencer rubs his thumb against Brendon's shirt. "Come on," he says. "Tony's waiting to take Sara and Annabel back to the bus."

Brendon nods. His skin tingles under Spencer's hand. "Yeah," he says. "Coming."

\--

In New Jersey, they get a whole twenty four hours off, and because Brendon can't stomach the idea of spending another moment cooped in a hotel room or on the bus with Annabel, he rents a car and bugs Spencer to come with him to find something cool for Annabel to do.

Spencer resists for about seven minutes, which is most of the time he's stuck in his bunk with Annabel sitting on his lap while Brendon's trying to make Annabel breakfast and get dressed.

"It's ass o'clock in the morning," Spencer calls, as Brendon's pulling Annabel's bowl out of the microwave and stirring the baby rice. She has one real grown up meal a day now, topped up with a bottle. She likes mashed banana and warm mashed pear; it's kind of difficult to widen her tastes when they're stuck on a bus with a crappy microwave. When they get back to Vegas in a couple of weeks, Brendon's determined to cook all these things he's never even bothered buying at the grocery store before. He's going to make her parsnip and sweet potato and carrots so she can be the best baby he knows. His sisters and brothers have all handed over their old baby books, and Brendon brought a few of them away with him - he's been worrying about all the things he's been doing wrong ever since. Weaning, at least, he's going to get right.

"It's like, nine a.m.," Brendon calls back, warming up a bottle. "You're just grumpy."

"Because it's the middle of the stupid night, that's why."

"We've got a _car_ ," Brendon says, "and I've put the coffee on for you."

"Like we don't spend enough time on the road as it is," Spencer grumbles, wandering into the kitchen in his boxers and a t-shirt. "Take her while I find something warmer to wear, will you? It's fucking freezing."

"Hi baby," Brendon says, curling her into the crook of his arm. "Spencer's being a big wimp, you should tell him that."

"It's _cold_ ," Spencer says, tugging on a pair of sweats. "And I was up until fuck o'clock at that stupid party you dicked out of-"

Brendon rolls his eyes. "I had to go and take over looking after Annabel."

"Yeah, I know," Spencer says, pulling on a hoodie and a pair of socks, and holding his hands out for Annabel, "I'm just saying, you know. Ass o'clock in the morning."

"Stop complaining and give her her breakfast," Brendon tells him, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to go across and see if I left those pamphlets about the petting zoo on Jon and Ryan's bus."

"Petting zoo?" Spencer calls after him.

"Don't pretend you don't want to go," Brendon yells.

Spencer makes some sort of unintelligible grumpy noise. Brendon laughs, and heads across the parking lot to where Jon and Ryan's bus is parked.

\--

The petting zoo is pretty lame, to be honest. There are rabbits, and a goat who tries to eat Spencer's coat and refuses to eat the grain Brendon holds out in his hand. Annabel's in her stroller and she falls asleep half way around, leaving Brendon and Spencer to wander around and point at the sheep and piglets and make stupid faces at the llamas. Spencer likes the miniature horses and Brendon briefly considers getting a pig to live in his back yard, before Spencer elbows him and just says _no_.

They get cokes from the cafe and share a sandwich and some chips.

"I could totally look after a pig," Brendon says, after a while.

"Shut up," Spencer says, shifting Annabel's stroller a little so that he can see whether she's still asleep.

"No, really," Brendon says. "It could eat all our leftovers. It'd be good for the environment."

"We're not getting a pig," Spencer says, "because that's a stupid idea. And any pig we owned would just end up eating pizza and old takeout."

"Pigs can eat human bones, can't they?" Brendon asks, mid-mouthful. "Not that I'd want them to, I'm just saying."

"You're gross," Spencer says.

Brendon sticks his tongue out.

"A rabbit, though," Brendon says, after he's finished his sandwich. "We could get a rabbit."

Spencer blinks. "Do you really want a rabbit?"

Brendon shrugs. "Annabel would like one."

"Annabel is five months old," Spencer points out. "She's not exactly expressing an opinion." He finishes his sandwich, dropping the crust on his plate. "A dog, though."

"You want a dog?"

Spencer shrugs a shoulder. "I guess? I like dogs, so. Yeah."

"Okay," Brendon says, and for a brief moment he entertains the idea of the three of them, Brendon and Spencer and Annabel, and their dog. He shakes his head. "Are you done? I want to go buy Annabel something from the gift shop."

He picks out a soft rabbit that says _6 months +_ on the label.

"You'll have to hide it for a month," Spencer says, nudging Brendon with the stroller.

"My baby's going to be six months old," Brendon says. "Fuck, when did that happen?"

"Well," Spencer tells him, rolling his eyes. "It's pretty self-explanatory. If you're stuck I can spell it out in little words."

"Fuck you," Brendon says, and he buys Spencer a finger puppet of a dolphin, just because. He buys Jon and Ryan a pack of cards with pictures of goats on, because they're next to the register and the goat on the front looks like Ryan when he gets up in the morning.

\--

Spencer sits in the back seat and entertains Annabel with his dolphin finger puppet and her new rabbit. She giggles and laughs and starts blowing spit bubbles.

"That shouldn't be cute," Spencer points out at the next set of lights.

"Shh," Brendon says. "Everything my baby does is cute."

"Yeah, but _spit bubbles_."

"You wish you could blow them as well."

Spencer raises his eyebrows, and Brendon starts to laugh.

\--

"You want to go back yet?" Brendon asks, half an hour later. Annabel's asleep and Spencer's leaning back in his seat, yawning.

"Not really," Spencer says. "You want to stop and get something else to eat?"

"Okay," Brendon says, and they pull over at a Mexican restaurant and hang out in the parking lot for a while so that Spencer can take a call from his mom and dad. Brendon entertains himself by watching Annabel sleep, which is kind of ridiculously engaging. He sends texts to Jon and Ryan, saying _looooosers shud hav come 2 zoo. goat tried 2 eat spence_.

Ryan texts him back. _Spence still in 1 piece, y/n?_

 _y_ , Brendon texts. _he wudnt let me by a pig_.

 _gud_ , Jon texts back, which means Ryan and Jon are hanging out. _Zack says no pigs on the bus_.

 _Zack is no fun :(((((((_

Spencer finishes up with his mom and dad, and rolls his eyes at Brendon as a text message beeps. "Ryan says you told him a goat tried to eat me," he says, reading his message.

"One did," Brendon says, airily, undoing the seat belt from around Annabel's seat.

Another text message beeps through on Spencer's phone. "Why is Zack telling me that you can't keep pigs on a bus?"

"No idea," Brendon says, with a grin. "Come on."

\--

They order enchiladas and burritos, and as Annabel's still sleeping they leave her in her car seat on the chair between them.

Brendon hums as he orders a coke; he wants a beer and he thinks they should probably stop off somewhere on the way back and pick some up. Sara's had the day off, same as they have, but she's supposed to be working tonight so that Brendon and Spencer can go to the party Ryan's organized in one of the hotel rooms. Brendon wants to get drunk and smoke up and secretly, he wants to kiss the fuck out of Spencer, but he's trying to be content with finding someone else to kiss. He's missed kissing. He's missed sex, too, but he's missed partying more; he wants to drink and smoke and kiss and then he wants to wake up and go back to his baby. It's strange; if he'd had to make a decision with Lucy about whether or not to get pregnant, he would have said _no_ and run a mile. But when she _was_ pregnant, when there was this tiny baby that they'd created, well. Brendon hadn't really had to think.

This tour has been really weird, because half the time it hasn't seemed like a tour, it's just been one thing after another, with meet and greets and shows and interviews in between looking after his baby. He keeps waiting for it to feel like all those other tours he's been on, but it hasn't, not yet.

"I should have gotten Sara something from the petting zoo," Brendon says, once they've ordered and they're sitting back and waiting for their drinks to arrive.

"Oh yeah?" Spencer says. "I guess."

"We should stop and get some drinks," Brendon goes on, helping himself to nachos from the bowl in the middle of the table. "You know, for tonight."

"Sure," Spencer agrees, nodding.

"Maybe we could pick Sara up something then," Brendon muses.

"What, from the alcohol aisle?" Spencer rolls his eyes. "Here, look after my baby, here's a bottle of vodka?"

"No," Brendon says, kicking at Spencer's shin. "I just, I don't want to go back with something for everyone and not something for her, that's all."

"She won't expect anything," Spencer says, and Brendon thinks that Spencer's maybe looking at him weirdly. His eyes are sharp.

"Still," Brendon says. "It'd be nice to buy her something. She's kind of got a rough deal, looking after Annabel."

"Yeah," Spencer says, "because working for you is such a hardship."

"Shut up," Brendon says. "Unsociable hours and whatever. Stuck on the road with us. It's not easy."

"Hmmm," Spencer says, grumpily.

Brendon rolls his eyes and picks at the nachos.

\--

Brendon's pretty sure that a couple of the wait staff recognize them. There are a couple, probably just out of high school, who keep whispering to each other and staring. "Aye, aye," Brendon says, under his breath.

Spencer blinks. "Are we pretending to be pirates now? Don't we have to wait until Annabel's awake to start that?"

"Shut up," Brendon says. Spencer's still being grumpy. "I think they recognize us. Over there."

"Yay," Spencer says, and pokes at the remains of the nachos with one finger. "Just what I wanted."

"Stop being grumpy," Brendon says, kicking Spencer under the table, and he smiles when one of them comes over with their food.

"You're in that band, right?" the girl asks, and Brendon grins.

"Yeah," he says, "are you a fan?"

"Loved the first album," the girl says, nodding furiously and almost tipping enchilada into Spencer's lap.

"Excellent," Brendon says, "that's great."

Brendon can see Spencer opening his mouth to ask how she liked the second album. Brendon kicks him again under the table, and Spencer narrows his eyes and closes his mouth.

"What crawled up your ass?" Brendon asks, after the girl's left them their food and told Brendon that Annabel is really cute.

"Nothing," Spencer says, grumpily. He picks at his food. "It's fine. We should stop off on the way back to the hotel and pick something out for Sara."

"Cool," Brendon says. "We should probably get something for Zack, too, something that's fluffy and pink."

"Zack?" Spencer asks, slowly.

"Yeah," Brendon nods, "the pinker the better. He can't be the only one without a gift."

"You know he's not going to appreciate anything fluffy and pink, right?"

"He will," Brendon says, lightly. "He'll treasure it because it's from Annabel."

"Hmmm," Spencer says. "Well, if it's from Annabel, better make it glittery too."

Brendon tries not to clap his hands. Spencer doesn't look so grumpy anymore, he must have had low blood sugar or something. "Evil, Spencer Smith," he says, " _Evil_. I love it."

\--

Zack most definitely does not appreciate his pink, fluffy, three foot long squishy boa constrictor, even if it comes wrapped around a sleeping Annabel.

"It's from _Annabel_ ," Brendon says, sadly. "She picked it herself."

"Fuck off," Zack says. "I could break you."

"It's a _reptile_ ," Spencer points out. "There's nothing manlier than a reptile."

"It's a worm," Zack says.

"It's sad," Brendon says, looking mournfully at Spencer, "it's sad how willing Zack is to upset my baby."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Zack says, "give it here."

"She wants you to wear it like a scarf," Brendon says.

"I will punch you in the throat," Zack says. He carries it under one arm, though, and shoots death glares at anyone who starts to laugh.

"Victory," Brendon says, in a low voice, and Spencer elbows him in the side and grins.

\--

"It'd be cool if you could come to the party too, Sara," Brendon says, later on. He's combing his hair and making faces in the mirror. Spencer's just arrived, and he's holding Annabel and tickling her tummy so that she giggles.

Sara's on the floor, sorting out piles of Annabel's laundry into piles of different colors. "Yeah, but who would look after Annabel then?" she says, rolling her eyes and throwing socks in different piles.

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Stop creating problems," he says. "Logic plays no part here."

Spencer clears his throat. "We should go," he says. "Come on."

"In a minute," Brendon says, "Sara's been telling me all about her loser, asshole ex-boyfriend. We're just getting to the exciting part, where she tells him to go fuck himself, right?"

Spencer's face tightens, and he pushes past Brendon so that Annabel can see herself in the mirror. She loves looking at herself, even though she doesn't realize it's her she's looking at. "Fine," Spencer says. "Whenever."

"You can go on," Brendon says, "if you want. I'm just going to change Annabel-"

"I can do that," Sara says. "Go on, go to your party. I can fill you in later."

"Oh," Brendon says. "Alright. Okay. Come here, baby girl, and let me tell you how much I'm going to miss you." He holds his hands out for Annabel, and Spencer kisses the top of her head and hands her over.

Brendon thinks that Spencer _really_ must have gotten out of bed the wrong side because he's looking really grumpy.

Brendon says goodnight to Annabel. When he gives her to Sara, she holds her hands out for Brendon to pick her up, and starts to whimper.

"That's new," Spencer says.

"I know," Brendon says, sadly. He doesn't want to go to any stupid party, not when he could stay here with Annabel. Not when she's looking at him like _that_.

"Come on," Spencer says, and tugs him out by his elbow.

\--

Ryan's parties are always pretty cool. All the techs are there, and Zack and the security team and the support bands and any girls they've picked up. Brendon doesn't know where Ryan found the girls for tonight, but there are loads of them, giggling college kids sprawled out across the couches and the beds in Jon and Ryan's rooms.

Ryan's already making out with one of them, over by the windows. He waves when he sees Spencer and Brendon, much to the annoyance of the girl he's kissing.

Brendon just laughs and goes to help himself to a drink, pouring one for Spencer as well.

Then he gets caught up talking to Jon about the chord changes in this song he's been working on, and the next time he looks around, Spencer's nowhere to be seen. He's probably in the room next door, and Brendon rolls his eyes and yawns, sinking down onto the couch next to a couple of girls who are talking to Danny from the support band.

He spots Spencer after a while, spots him leaning up against the wall and talking to a pretty girl with dark hair and really amazing eye make-up. The girl is twirling her hair around her fingers and leaning in; it's pretty clear she wants more than just a conversation.

Brendon sighs. He can understand; all he can think about is that stupid New Year's kiss, the one that Spencer probably doesn't even remember. Brendon's made out with like, a couple of hundred girls or something, over the years. He's never made out with anyone and wanted so much _more_ , though. Not like he had with Spencer. It's kind of scary, how much Brendon _wants_. None of his girlfriends have even come close.

"Fuck," Jon says, sinking down onto the arm of the couch and handing Brendon a beer. "Hands off, Bden. Yeah, she's really hot, but Spencer saw her first."

"What?" Brendon asks, startled.

"That girl you can't stop staring at," Jon says. "The one Spencer's talking to. Spencer saw her first."

Brendon swallows. "I know," he says, awkwardly. "I wouldn't."

"Like you haven't before," Jon says, ruffling his hair. "Thought you were a changed man, though. Annabel, and everything."

"I'm just looking," Brendon manages. He is. He's always just looking.

"Yeah," Jon says. "Looking, and then making out with."

"I haven't, not in a long time," Brendon says. He feels all hot; his fingers tingle. For a moment, Spencer's gaze flicks over to him, and Brendon wants him to come over, to leave his girl behind and come over and be with Brendon instead. He doesn't, and Brendon lets out a breath.

"Go pick someone else," Jon says, easily.

"Sure," Brendon says. "Cool. Yeah."

\--

Brendon picks a girl with long, wavy blonde hair, who smokes out of the window and lets him share. He asks her name - Karen, maybe, or Karly, or something. She tells him twice, but he doesn't remember.

Brendon tells her some funny story she doesn't even listen to, but when he finishes, she throws her head back and laughs. He watches her throat, the pale skin and the way her jaw is smooth and probably soft to the touch. He remembers the way Spencer's skin had felt beneath his fingertips, the way he'd tried to keep on touching, even when he couldn't anymore.

He kisses her, and she tastes like smoke and beer and it's _nice_ , yeah, it's nice and it's fun but things aren't the same anymore. He has a _baby_ , and he's not the same guy he was six months or a year ago. He doesn't even want to be. He wants to kiss Spencer more than he wants to make out with random girls he's never going to see again, and he doesn't know when or where it happened, but it _did_ , and it _had_ , and Brendon is screwed. He's so fucking screwed.

They break the kiss, and Brendon looks up and Spencer's watching him. Watching _them_ , watching Brendon and Karen or Karly or whatever her name is. He's frowning, but when he catches Brendon looking at him, he swallows, and looks away.

Brendon feels like he can't breathe.

He leans in, and he kisses her again.

\--

Brendon goes to get himself another drink, and Spencer's kissing the girl with the dark hair and the eye make-up, backing her up against the wall with his hands in her hair.

Brendon pours himself a drink, and doesn't bother adding a mixer.

\--

Brendon wakes up in his hotel room the following morning, and he's all alone. In the adjoining room, he can hear the soft murmur of Sara talking to Annabel, and after a couple of minutes of burying his face in the pillow and wishing things were different, he rolls out of bed and stumbles through the door into Sara's room.

"Hey," he says, tiredly, leaning against the doorjamb.

Annabel's in her bouncing crib, sucking on her penguin's foot. When she sees Brendon, she holds her hands out and starts to bounce more enthusiastically. She's making little excited noises.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, leaning down and scooping her up and out of her chair. She curls against him, nuzzling his skin. Brendon rubs his nose against her cheek.

"Good party?" Sara asks. She's sorting out Annabel's clean laundry, pairing up tiny socks and folding up onesies and cardigans and tiny pants.

"Sure," Brendon says, offhandedly, and he tries not to remember what it felt like, watching Spencer make out with someone else. "How was this one? Did she behave herself?"

"Cried like a trooper," Sara says, with a grin. "I don't think I'm as good at singing to her as you and Spencer are. But she's good."

"Annabel," Brendon says, holding her close. She bats at his face with her hand. "I thought I told you to be good for Sara? Are we going to have to have words?"

Annabel gurgles, a long stream of noise.

"Well," Brendon says. "Yes, of course. I understand now. Your babyzilla impression was just an act."

Sara grins, and elbows him when she stands up. "You two are too cute."

"We are," Brendon agrees. He yawns, sighing. "You can take the rest of the morning, if you want. I've got this stupid radio interview thing this afternoon, so, you'll need to be back here for two-" he yawns again. "And we've got a bus call at four, to get to the venue."

"You sure?" Sara asks. "I don't mind hanging around."

"Yeah," Brendon says, "no worries. Me and Annabel will just hang out."

Sara sits back on her heels, throwing the last of Annabel's clothes into the bag. "Okay," she says, "if you're sure. I'll have my phone, though, so you can call if you need to-"

"We'll be fine," Brendon says, "but, thanks."

Sara ruffles Annabel's baby hair. "Okay," she says, "you two have fun, now."

"We will," Brendon says, and he waves Annabel's hand at Sara.

\--

He doesn't call Spencer, or Ryan, or Jon. Instead, he sprawls across his bed with Annabel propped up on pillows next to him, surrounded by toys. Mostly she plays with her rattle, and her penguin, holding the sucked bits out for Brendon to see. He puts the TV on in the background and flicks up and down the channels, dipping in and out.

When she starts to cry, he changes her diaper and walks her up and down, singing _Folkin' Around_ to her until she settles. He knows how strange it is for her, all these new places and new smells and new people. She's disorientated and he feels bad. He wants to take her home. It still doesn't feel like a tour.

Everything's weird.

\--

The interview that afternoon is just him and Ryan; the radio station have sent a car and they hang around in the lobby waiting for Zack and Tony to say they can go out. There are some pretty persistent fans around, hanging out outside the hotel, and Zack keeps having to go over and tell them not to be creepy. There are other fans around too, the ones who aren't so creepy, the ones that just look and giggle and occasionally come over and ask for autographs. Normally Brendon's okay with just rushing off a few autographs, but not when Annabel's around. She's in her baby seat on the couch beside him, sucking on her penguin and clutching at a rattle. She keeps dropping it, and Brendon's left picking it up, over and over, while she laughs.

"You'd think she'd get bored," Ryan says, from behind dark glasses and a scarf.

"Not my baby," Brendon says. "She's persistent."

"Yeah," Ryan says. "I get that."

Brendon picks up the rattle another couple of times. "Good party last night," he says, after a minute.

"Yeah," Ryan says, lazily. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"People had fun," Brendon says. He makes face after face at Annabel; he thinks people are taking photos, over by the elevators. He remembers the way the girl's hair had felt between his fingers as they'd kissed last night. "Jon and Spencer-"

"-are totally laughing at us right now, yeah," Ryan says. "They're playing video games and ordering room service."

"Fuckers," Brendon says, fervently.

"Jon was puking this morning, though, so." Ryan shrugs. "And Spencer looked pretty rough, too."

"Maybe they overdid it last night," Brendon says lightly.

"Maybe," Ryan agrees. "You think there's somewhere I can get a bottle of water before we leave?"

"Try over there," Brendon points. "Get me one, will you? And some skittles or whatever."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "You're such a kid."

"Yeah," Brendon says. "And you'll beg me to let you have the purple ones. Fuck off."

Ryan flips him off, and Brendon grins.

\--

Brendon groans when his cellphone goes off. It's Zack, reminding him that he is, in fact, five minutes late for lobby call. He buries his face in the pillow. "Okay," he manages, "just give me two minutes."

"One," Zack says. "Or else I'll have to have you killed, and you know how I hate getting blood out of my clothes."

Brendon manages to get down in five, which is pretty good going considering that when he tumbles out of the elevator, he's dragging his duffel behind him, clutching his backpack, Annabel's diaper bag and holding Annabel in her seat. He's just glad Sara helped take Annabel's stuff down to the bus earlier, before Annabel fell asleep and Brendon just decided to close his eyes for a couple of minutes.

Spencer just rolls his eyes and comes over to help untangle Brendon from his stuff. "Idiot," he says, when Brendon relinquishes his duffel in relief and tries not to drop his baby.

"Sorry," Brendon manages, the diaper bag sliding off his shoulder and down his arm. "I only meant to sleep for a minute."

Spencer shrugs, and shoulders his backpack. "Don't sweat it," he says, and he looks down at Annabel. "How is she?"

"She's a tired little girl," Brendon says. "I don't think she slept very well last night."

"She's not sick?"

"No," Brendon says, shaking his head. "Don't think so, anyway. Maybe she just missed me."

Spencer nods. "Yeah," he says. "Probably. Come on, I'll help you drag your stuff to the bus."

\--


	2. Chapter 2

Half way through the last week of tour, Brendon slumps back on to the couch in his bus and groans. Spencer kicks him in the shin.

"Worst tour ever," Brendon says, tiredly.

"Shut up," Spencer says, and pointedly flicks over the page of his magazine.

"No, seriously," Brendon says. "It's just been one disaster after another."

Annabel's sitting on the floor in a big rubber ring that Jon and Ryan had proudly shown up with a couple of days earlier. It was a blow-up doughnut shape, covered in soft cotton with pictures of animals all around the lip. It gave Annabel something to sit in and lean up against and just enough room for her to kick her feet and reach for her penguin. It took assisted sitting to a whole new level, or so Jon had said. Plus, animals. Annabel loved it.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "You're such a fucking dick, try shutting up."

"No, right," Brendon says. "First of all I drag my baby away for six weeks so she's cranky and sad and doesn't know where the fuck she is –"

On the floor, Annabel squeals and waves her penguin at Spencer.

"- then we hire the worst fucking nanny in the history of nannies,"

"Good to see you've still got your powers of stupid-ass exaggeration," Spencer tells him, without looking up.

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Touring with a _baby_ ," he says. "Worst fucking idea ever."

Spencer sighs. "Look, Brendon. Look at her. She's _fine_. She likes Sara-"

Sometimes Brendon gets the impression that Spencer _doesn't_ like Sara, but whenever Brendon pushes him on it, Spencer clams up and changes the subject. Spencer had promised Brendon that he wouldn't keep anything serious from Brendon again, though, so this time he trusted his intuition and went with it. Sara stays.

"-she likes Sara and she's happy and so what if it's been a different kind of tour? So what?"

"So," Brendon says, waving his hands about. On the floor, Annabel copies him, and Brendon can't help but grin at her, even though it doesn't meet his eyes. His baby is the smartest baby. "So, I've fucked up things for everyone else, and no one's calling me on it."

Spencer shrugs. "I don't know what you expect people to say," he says. "You want people to yell because you went and got yourself a baby?"

Brendon bites his lip. "I don't know. Maybe?" He sighs. "Everything's different, and it's all my fault."

"Would you rather you didn't have Annabel?" Spencer asks, after a minute.

"Fuck, _no_ ," Brendon says, immediately. "How can you even say that?"

"Well then," Spencer says, interrupting him. "We've got Annabel, we're not changing things so she's not around any more. Things are different and everyone's trying and maybe you could try giving people a break for not giving you a hard time about it. You'd rather people were yelling?"

Brendon sighs, and shuffles down on the couch so he's lying down. He pulls a hoodie over his face, and only belatedly realizes that the reason he'd discarded it was because Annabel had gotten baby rice all down the front of it the night before. He drops it off the couch and onto the floor, and rubs at his face with his palms. He's tired, and he needs a shower, and the shows have been okay but they haven't been _mindblowing_. He's spent too long worrying about Annabel to be focused on the show, and even when he's been on stage he's felt like he's been somewhere else, checking if everything is okay with his baby. He kind of feels bad for the kids who've come along, and not gotten the best show they could. Brendon feels kind of stretched, like he's being pulled in all different directions, and he doesn't know how to stop. There isn't anything he ever wants to do apart from play music.

"We'll be better next time," Spencer says. "All these things that went wrong, we'll figure them out so they don't happen next time."

"Next time?" Brendon asks, awkwardly.

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "Yeah," he says. "Next tour, we'll know what to expect."

Brendon just swallows and leans his head back against the wall.

"What," Spencer says, "you didn't think there was going to be a next time?"

"Maybe not with Annabel," Brendon says softly. It's like voicing his worst fear.

"You dick," Spencer says, and he closes his magazine. "You think we were going to stop Annabel from coming along?"

"Think of all the hassle she's caused," Brendon says, haltingly.

Spencer rolls his shoulders. "Where you go, Annabel goes," he says. "You think we don't know that?"

"No," Brendon says, shaking his head. "I know that. I just thought-"

Spencer raises his eyebrows. "You thought-"

"I don't know," Brendon says, unwilling to say exactly what he had been thinking, that they'd go away on tour and he wouldn't go with them.

"No," Spencer says, shaking his head quickly and moving closer to Brendon. "No, Brendon, whatever you were thinking, the answer's no."

"Well," Brendon says, squaring his shoulders and dropping off the couch and onto the floor next to Annabel. "That's good to know."

Spencer slides off the couch too, dropping his hand to Brendon's shoulder. "You should try trusting us sometime," he says. "I hear that's a pretty good plan."

"Yeah," Brendon says, nodding. "I'll get on that."

"Good," Spencer says, and reaches for Annabel.

\--

The last day of the tour is a nightmare from start to finish. They're late, there are hold-ups, everyone's hungover and they haven't got time to stop off, the bathroom smells like vomit, they're out of food apart from Annabel's horrible baby rice, and everyone's exhausted and yelling. Annabel's got a cold and is snuffly and snotty and whiny and sick. She keeps coughing all over whoever's holding her, and for whatever reason, Jon and Ryan are crashed out on Brendon's bus. Every time Annabel gets snotty, Ryan wrinkles his nose and holds her out for Brendon to find a Kleenex and wipe her down.

They run out of Kleenex at lunchtime, and toilet paper an hour later. Annabel's nose is red and sore, and she cries every time Brendon comes near her. Sara's got a stomach bug so she is over on Zack's bus, and Zack keeps sending texts detailing exactly how sick she is. Everyone feels nauseous and travel sick and by the time they're half an hour late for sound check and still stuck in traffic across the other side of the city, Brendon's ready to sit down on the floor next to Annabel and just cry too.

"Can't you get her to just, I don't know, be quiet?" Ryan asks. He's curled up on the couch under Jon's jacket, looking pale and hungover.

"How the fuck do you expect me to do that?" Brendon snaps, cradling Annabel close. "She's _sick_."

"Shut up, Ryan," Spencer says.

"Shut up yourself," Ryan says, and pulls Jon's jacket over his head.

"Oh, _Annabel_ ," Brendon says, when he looks down and realizes Annabel's cried herself into a tiny red-faced ball of snot and tears. "Why won't you just _stop crying_?"

"Yeah," Ryan says, muffled from under the jacket, "I'd like to know that too."

Spencer elbows him in the side. "Have we got any of that baby Tylenol or whatever it is? The stuff your mom recommended?"

"Maybe," Brendon says. "It was in that box, you know, the one with the thing in it."

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "I've got it."

"You two are weird," Jon says, from deep inside his hoodie.

"Shut up," Brendon says. "Do you want to hold my sick baby? Because if not, you can just shut up."

Jon disappears further inside his hoodie. "I can, if you want." He doesn't sound enthusiastic, and Brendon's not giving her up right now, anyway.

"Come on, baby girl," Brendon says, over Annabel's frustrated cries. "Just stop crying, I promise you'll feel better."

"Does she have a fever?" Spencer asks, coming back into the lounge and reading the back of the bottle. He's got one of those weird baby dropper things, too.

"I don't know," Brendon says, touching her forehead. "She's hot, and she's red, but maybe that's because she's so irritable. I don't think so?"

He hates this. He hates that he can't ask Annabel what's wrong, that she can't tell him. She can cry to tell him she's in pain and she can cry to tell him it hurts, but she can't tell him any _more_. The responsibility is too much, and Brendon doesn't want it anymore.

"Okay," Spencer says, "move the fuck out of the way, Jon, just for a minute-" Jon shuffles up into a sitting position and Brendon sits down, Annabel on his lap. "It says, two," Spencer goes on, and he carefully sucks up a dropper full of the medicine and holds it out for Brendon to try and give it to Annabel.

"No," Brendon says, "the angle. You try."

Spencer nods, and then tries to get the dropper into Annabel's mouth.

It's messy and she doesn't stop crying, but she takes both droppers and snuggles back against Brendon's arm.

She cries for another twenty minutes, and just when Brendon doesn't think he can take any more of it, she cries herself out. Spencer takes her then, while Brendon goes into the bathroom to splash water on his face and rest his forehead against the wall.

"Fuck," Brendon says, softly. " _Fuck_."

\--

They get back to Vegas late the following afternoon, and when the bus pulls up outside Brendon's house, he's so tired he can barely stand. Annabel is pale and crashed out and looking tiny, curled up into the crook of his arm. By the time he's changed the sheets in her crib and gotten her all tucked in, Spencer's already gotten half of their stuff unloaded and into Brendon's garage, with the help of their driver and Tony, who's catching a ride to the airport.

"I'll just sort out my stuff later," Spencer says, dumping yet more bags of their crap onto the garage floor. "If that's okay with you."

"Sure," Brendon says, and he's pretty sure he can already _hear_ his bed calling to him. "Cool."

It takes another half an hour to clear the bus out properly. The garage is full of bags and piles of stuff Brendon can't even remember owning. "Is this stuff even _ours_?" he asks, poking through a pile of hoodies and battered paper grocery bags.

"If it isn't, it is now," Spencer says, dropping another box on the floor. "That's it, I think we're done."

They exchange high-fives with Tony and the driver, and then that's it. The bus is pulling away, and Spencer's tugging down the garage door, bitching at Brendon for never getting a guy to come over and fix the broken rail, and then Brendon's yawning and stumbling backwards into the wall.

"I don't care," Brendon says, yawning again. "Come on, let's just go to bed."

Spencer freezes, and Brendon blinks. _Fuck_ , he thinks, _fuck, Spencer doesn't want that_.

"I'm so tired I could just crash out here, like, _now_ ," Brendon says, quickly and awkwardly. "On a bed of all our bus-crap."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Upstairs," he says, "now."

"Heaven," Brendon says, and doesn't let himself think about Spencer stumbling into bed with him, falling asleep and waking up beside him. Leaning in to kiss him.

Brendon shakes his head and follows Spencer up the stairs.

\--

He thinks he must have been in bed about thirty seconds when he hears Annabel start to cry. He hasn't even closed his eyes. He knows he should have woken her up anyway, otherwise she'd never sleep tonight, but it had just been so _easy_ to leave her sleeping when he was so tired himself.

They end up in the living room, Brendon lying on the floor and Annabel sitting up against him, playing with her books and trying to read upside down. Brendon reads to her about cats and kittens, and then they look at the picture book with all the pictures of babies. Brendon's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open.

Annabel is still all snuffly and pale and sick, and she doesn't like it when Brendon tries to put her into her chair. In the end, he sits on the couch and puts the TV on and lets her stare at the screen, hoping it'll keep her interested for a while.

Brendon's only half awake when Spencer comes down, an hour or so later.

"Why didn't you wake me?" Spencer says, when he sees Brendon and Annabel sitting on the kitchen floor, rooting through the cupboards.

"No point in us both being awake," Brendon says. "Where are my car keys? I need to go out. Annabel needs her dinner, and I don't know where the baby rice is. Or where anything is. Fuck, I'm such a bad parent."

"Shut up," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "I'll get my keys, go and get us some stuff from the store, and I'll be back in half an hour, okay?"

"You don't have to do that," Brendon says, in relief.

"Yeah," Spencer says, amused. "See if you can stay awake another thirty minutes, alright?"

Brendon nods, and holds Annabel closer, kissing her head.

Spencer leans in, and for a single, amazing moment, Brendon thinks that Spencer's going to kiss him. He doesn't, though, he just leans past Brendon and presses a kiss to Annabel's forehead.

"Be good for your daddy, Annabel," he says, softly. "He's kind of sleepy."

Annabel gurgles a reply and Brendon nods. "Thanks," he says. "You're a lifesaver."

"I know," Spencer says, and then he's grabbing Brendon's keys and leaving.

\--

Spencer kind of, well. He doesn't go home. He hangs out in Brendon's living room, playing with the baby and beating Brendon at Mario Kart on the Wii. He does his laundry in Brendon's washing machine, keeps his food in Brendon's fridge, and all of his tour crap from the bus either stays in the garage or starts to move its way upstairs into Brendon's guest room.

Brendon's careful not to say anything, because he feels like they're kind of teetering on the brink of something; as soon as Brendon brings up Spencer virtually living in his house, it's going to sound _weird_. There's no way to bring it up without Brendon coming off sounding like a freak with a total crush on his bandmate. And it's almost normal anyway, if Brendon thinks about it. They've always hung out during breaks, spending the majority of their time crashing on each other's floors or in their guest rooms or taking over their couches. When Jon's finished up seeing his friends and family in Chicago, he's going to fly back to Las Vegas and crash at Ryan's, and no one's going to bring that up and make it sound weird.

He definitely does not want to rock the boat, because he really _likes_ having Spencer around. He likes going grocery shopping with him, and arguing about who takes the garbage out, and he likes having someone to take Annabel when his arms are starting to hurt. He likes it when he wakes up and Spencer's woken up first, and when Brendon wanders out of his room and into the hallway, he doesn't find Annabel in her crib, but in Spencer's room, on his lap reading _The Very Hungry Caterpillar_ for the hundredth time. Brendon's still not sure if she takes any of the story in, but she definitely does prefer some pages over others. He likes it when they all hang out in the kitchen, and Annabel's sitting at the table with them, covered in pureed pear, or banana, or sweet potato or carrots or parsnip. She does _not_ like carrots and she's really very persistent in this, ignoring all of Brendon and Spencer's best attempts to get her to eat it.

"I don't think she likes your airplane impression," Brendon says sadly, one day when Spencer's done all the sound-effects and everything, only to find Annabel steadfastly refusing to even try a mouthful of Spencer's best pureed carrot.

"Shut up," Spencer says. "She likes my airplane impression better than she likes your stupid train impression."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "She just doesn't want to hurt your feelings," he tells Spencer, gently. "Really, she thinks your airplane impression is lame."

"Bah, bah, bah," Annabel says, and drops her penguin in her bowl of carrots.

Brendon stands up. "Did you hear that?" he asks, awestruck. "She enunciated."

"Fuck, yes," Spencer says, standing there with his mouth open and a spoonful of carrots still in mid air.

"I'm going to call my mom," Brendon says, and fuck, he doesn't know where his phone is.

"Me too," Spencer says, and it's only when they meet in the hallway a minute later that they realize they've left Annabel all by herself in the kitchen.

"I'll call you back, Mom," Brendon says, and Spencer echoes him, into his phone.

In the kitchen, Annabel is still sitting in her high chair, carefully mashing her penguin into her carrots. "Bah, bah, bah," she says, grumpily, which Brendon can only imagine means _what the fuck, Daddy?_.

"Who's my smart, smart baby, huh?" Brendon says, tugging her out of her chair and high into the air. "Six months old and talking!"

"Um-" Spencer says.

"Okay, making consonant sounds, what the fuck ever. Still the smartest baby ever."

"No," Spencer says, "I agree, it's just. She's just eaten. I'd tone down the waving her about in the air."

"Good point," Brendon says, and hands her over to Spencer, where she promptly spits up all down Spencer's neck.

Brendon laughs so much he has to sit down on the floor.

"For that," Spencer says, "you can soak the carrot out of her penguin before she realizes it's gone."

\--

"She's doing that mutant thing again," Spencer says, as soon as he picks up the phone.

Brendon laughs, and pushes the cart down the aisle. "Where she doesn't sleep?"

"She's the most awake baby on the West Coast, I think," Spencer tells him.

"Have you tried singing-"

"Yes," Spencer says. "I have sung every song we've ever written, and every song the Muppets have ever written, and every other song I can think of. She thinks I'm funny."

"Spence," Brendon says, carefully. "I've only been out of the house half an hour."

"I sang them very quickly."

Brendon laughs. "What cereal should I get?"

"That sugary frosted flakes crap you like," Spencer says, without even having to think. "And some raisin bran for me."

"You like Pop Tarts?" Brendon asks, picking up a packet. "They've got Barbie ones."

There's a long pause. "No," Spencer says, slowly. "Put them back."

Brendon puts the Barbie Pop Tarts back on the shelf. "How about ones with marshmallows and frosting?"

"For _breakfast_? It's no wonder your baby is a mutant."

"She's not a mutant," Brendon says. "Stop calling her that, she'll get a complex."

"Hey-" Spencer says. " _Annabel_."

"What?" Brendon asks, stopping the cart.

"Nothing," Spencer says. "She didn't use to be able to yank that hard."

" _What_?" Brendon asks, again.

"Oh, nothing," Spencer says. "You didn't have to give these baby books back to your sisters, did you?"

"Why?"

"They're just missing a few pages, that's all. We can probably stick them back in. You should pick up some tape."

"My daughter is very strong," Brendon says, proudly.

"-and a page out of your guitar catalogue."

"And a _pain_. My daughter is a _pain_."

"Don't forget mutant," Spencer says. "Pick up some chips, will you? And milk. And popcorn and those weird pretzel things you like and she might like carrots if we try them again, so you should pick some of those up too-"

Brendon hangs up, and then goes back up the aisle to pick up the box of Barbie toaster pastries.

\--

Brendon secretly pretends that he and Spencer and Annabel are a family.

It's pretty easy to pretend, because Spencer has moved into his guest room and helps look after his baby and it really _is_ like they're a family. A fucked-up, modern one, sure, but a family nonetheless. He finds himself doing all these weird, stupid things like buying a two pack of toothbrushes and then insisting that Spencer throw his old one out too, so they can both have a fresh one at the same time. He likes it when they go to the grocery store, all three of them, and they argue about what vegetables to pick out for Annabel, and whether they need to buy jars of baby food – they _do_ , because they're pretty crappy at remembering to cook things while they're still fresh, and they need emergency stuff – and then they end up in the baby aisle buying things like diapers and baby wipes and picking out stupid pairs of socks with Pooh Bear on them that they'll get home and then promptly lose one of.

Brendon tries to be pretty sneaky about it, though. He has to be, because one day soon, Spencer's going to realize he's got a home of his own, and they're all going to start recording the next album and Spencer's going to remember he's got this whole life that isn't Annabel-shaped, and that'll be it. Spencer will go home and Brendon will be left in his house with his baby, and they'll both have to try and figure out how to get along by themselves. It's easy to be insular at the moment, because Ryan's up in Chicago with Jon, living out of his guest room and jamming with Tom and hanging around until The Academy Is… get off tour so that Ryan can catch up with Sisky and the Butcher. Soon though, soon Ryan and Jon are flying back down, and Sara's flying in, and then it's all going to be weird, and different, and _over_.

Brendon's not an idiot. He knows he can't keep on pretending forever.

\--

"Who the _fuck_ bought her that piece of crap?" Brendon yells, after the button on Annabel's plastic baby radio breaks and they're stuck with the thirty second introduction of some butchered Disney Winnie the Pooh song playing on a loop that has Brendon wanting to tear his hair out after the seventeenth time of hearing.

"I don't fucking know," Spencer yells back, from inside the garage. "Do you even own a fucking screwdriver?"

"Who buys a toy where you have to screw down the battery cover?" Brendon shouts, and contemplates taking the stupid, brightly colored radio down to the bottom of the yard and burying it.

Annabel starts to cry.

"Screwdriver, Brendon!"

"Try the box of crap above the shelf-" Brendon opens the back door and chucks the toy as far as he can into the yard. A couple of birds fly off, startled. "Thank _fuck_ ," he says, after he finally gets the door shut. Annabel stops crying.

"It's not there," Spencer yells from the garage. "You don't even own one, do you?"

"It's okay," Brendon calls, picking up Annabel from her doughnut. "It's all fixed now."

"You made it stop?" Spencer asks, coming in from the garage and narrowing his eyes.

"Sure," Brendon says, and when Spencer looks away, he makes a shushing noise at Annabel, who giggles and claps her hands.

\--

Half an hour later, and the doorbell rings. Spencer's holding Annabel by the mirror in the hallway, pointing at her reflection and saying _Annabel_ a lot. "I'll get it," Spencer says, and Brendon, looking out of the window and realizing it's his neighbor, ducks behind the door into the living room and honest to fuck, he hides.

Mostly, Brendon can hear Spencer saying, "We're very sorry, sir," and "yes, we realize it must have been very disturbing for you," and "no, of course, it won't happen again."

The moment the door closes, Spencer marches into the living room. "Brendon-" he stops, tripping over Brendon's foot. "Are you _hiding_?"

"Um," Brendon says, from behind the door. "No?"

"Did you or did you not throw Annabel's toy out into the yard?"

Brendon shifts from foot to foot. "No?"

Spencer blinks. "You _did_ ," he says. "You just threw it outside."

Brendon wrinkles his nose. "Well, maybe."

"It's right by your fence," Spencer says, pretty levelly. "And it's annoying your neighbors. You might want to go bring it in again."

They end up locking it in Brendon's car out in the driveway, where it's not going to disturb anyone.

When they're inside again, Annabel resting on Spencer's hip, Spencer raises his eyebrows.

"Really?" he asks.

"Um," Brendon says. "Yeah?"

"Tomorrow," Spencer says, "tomorrow we're going shopping for a toolbox. Fuck, I swear sometimes you're worse than Ryan."

"Never," Brendon says, appalled. "Take that back."

Spencer blinks, and disappears into the kitchen with Annabel. "Your daddy is a sad and crazy man," he says, "it's very upsetting."

"I'm not worse than Ryan," Brendon yells.

\--

It's the middle of the night, and Annabel won't sleep. She's in a lazy, sleepy mood though, and Brendon sits with her in her room, Annabel curled up in the crook of his arm, sleepily sucking on her bottle.

"Spencer would make a good daddy," Brendon says, softly. The door's pushed to, so Spencer won't overhear even if he was awake. "He's very good with you," he goes on, "and when he has his own kids, they're going to be the luckiest kids in the world."

Annabel just keeps drinking her milk, Brendon helping her hold the bottle up while it's still full. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. Her eyes are closing, and she's letting the bottle fall. She smells milky and sleepy, and Brendon can't help it, he kisses her again.

"Come on, baby girl," he says, softly. "Time to go to bed."

He tucks her up in her crib, watching her sleep. He switches the lamp off and makes sure the nightlight is on before pulling the door part-closed.

\--

"Let's go out and do something cool tomorrow," Brendon says, as they're packing the dishwasher and putting laundry on, one night after Annabel's gone to sleep.

Spencer stands up, stretching his arms above his head. His t-shirt stretches with him, so there's a stripe of warm skin on show, his jeans riding low. Brendon wants to press his fingertips to Spencer's stomach. He shakes his head.

"What were you thinking?" Spencer asks.

Brendon shrugs, trying to concentrate on the dirty dishes on the counter top, and not on Spencer. "I dunno, something fun. Let's take Annabel somewhere, before Ryan and Jon and Sara get here."

"Okay," Spencer says, nodding. "Cool, yeah." _I like it when it's just us_ , Brendon remembers. He wants that too.

"How about the aquarium?"

"Penguins?" Spencer grins. "Sure. Annabel'll love it."

" _You'll_ love it," Brendon says, elbowing Spencer in the side. "Don't even pretend."

"Like you could resist a penguin, like, ever."

"Annabel will like it," Brendon says, decisively. "Right?"

"Right," Spencer says, and that's decided.

\--

Brendon can't help but realize that people have started to think that they're a couple, whenever they're out with Annabel. It'd be impossible to correct everyone, Brendon thinks, so he doesn't bother. He likes it when they're bickering over cereal in the line for the register at the grocery store, and the woman in front tells them that they have a beautiful baby. He likes it when they go to the aquarium and they're asked if they would like a family ticket.

Brendon's beaming and nodding yes when Spencer says _no_.

"What?" Brendon asks, his brow crinkling.

"Well," Spencer says, pointing at the admission prices. "Under two's go free. Annabel's only seven months old."

Brendon most definitely does not say that he'd rather pay extra just so they could get the family ticket. "Six and a half months old, actually," he corrects. He smiles at the girl behind the counter, who is smiling indulgently down at Annabel.

Annabel engages with _everyone_. Spencer just laughs and says that Annabel is definitely Brendon's daughter, if ever there was any doubt, because there isn't a single person on the planet she doesn't want to talk to. She smiles at everyone, and they all smile back. Brendon finds himself getting grumpy if Annabel smiles at someone and they don't smile back, because seriously, how hard is it to smile at a kid?

"Your baby's really beautiful," the girl says, and Brendon grins.

"She really is," he agrees, and Spencer elbows him.

"You're supposed to say _thank you_ , dumbass," he says, "not agree."

"Well, she's totally right," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "Annabel's the prettiest baby on the planet-"

"Shut up," Spencer says, "and come on. We have penguins to see."

Brendon lets himself be dragged off, waving at the register girl as he goes.

\--

Annabel is entranced. She's also _cold_ , because all the hallways are dark and air-conditioned, so Brendon ends up tipping the diaper bag all over the floor by the shark tank to try and find her an extra cardigan and her blanket.

She likes the water, and the fish, and the way she can press her hand to the glass and have the fish just on the other side of her fingers.

They take it in turns to hold her, pushing the empty stroller with the diaper bag in the seat when it's not their time.

She falls asleep as they wander in between two of the tanks, and they strap her into her stroller and go back to the shark tank and sit on the bench.

"This is pretty cool," Spencer says, after a while.

"The sharks?" Brendon asks. "Yeah."

"Well," Spencer says, awkwardly. "The sharks are pretty cool, but -" he tails off.

"Yeah?" Brendon prompts.

"I meant this," he says. "Me and you and Annabel."

Brendon nods quickly, his gaze flicking to Spencer, then to Annabel, then down to his lap. "Yeah," he says, again. "Me too. I think this is pretty cool, I mean."

They're sitting close to each other, and Brendon thinks for a moment how easy it would be to lean over and take Spencer's hand. He doesn't, and they sit in front of the shark tank for a while longer, until even Brendon gets cold and then they wander through the rest of the aquarium. They leave the penguin enclosure until the end, so they can hang around and wake Annabel up so she can see the penguins.

She cries when they take her out of her stroller. She cries, and Spencer has to wrap her up inside his jacket because she's cranky and cold. But there are _penguins_ , and Brendon's smiling, because when Annabel realizes what she's looking at she starts to smile and then she starts to laugh and clap her hands.

"Look, Annabel," Spencer says, pushing forward so they're right by the barrier. "Penguins, baby. _Penguins_."

"Penguins," Brendon echoes. He reads the information sign, which tells him that penguins mate for life and share all responsibilities for the baby penguins. He clears his throat and takes Annabel as she holds her hands out, reaching for him.

Spencer smiles, ruefully, and slides his hands into his pockets.

"Penguins, Spence," Brendon says, with a smile.

"You said," Spencer tells him. "Once or twice."

Brendon just laughs and makes Spencer take Brendon's camera out of his bag. He makes Spencer take picture after picture of Brendon making stupid faces at Annabel, and then he bundles Annabel into Spencer's arms and makes them swap places. After a minute, a guy asks Brendon if he'd like him to take a photo of the three of them all together. Spencer looks unsure, but Brendon just beams and hands over his camera.

It's automatic for him to lean into Spencer's side.

\--

They spend too long in the gift shop again, and Brendon buys a poster of penguins for Annabel's wall and a big squishy shark cushion for Spencer. He tries to hide it from Spencer, and sends him outside with Annabel and the stroller while he rushes it to the cash register and gets the guy behind the counter to double bag it so that Spencer doesn't see. He also buys Ryan a pencil with manatees on, and Jon a notebook with a squid on the front. Annabel gets a set of sea creatures for the bath, and a squid he can attach to her stroller. It's kind of amazing.

\--

Spencer keeps his shark cushion on his bed.

\--

Writing for their new album goes okay. Sara flies out, and she's staying in a rented condo a few minutes drive from Brendon's house. She likes her space, and this way it means that Spencer isn't forced to move out of Brendon's guest room. Jon and Ryan stumble in from Chicago, still high and clutching a sheaf of pages of new music and lyrics that they all try and unpick into something resembling actual songs.

Brendon feels pretty bad that he hasn't got as much to offer as he had when they were writing Pretty. Odd., – then he had songs of his own, and pieces he'd been working on by himself that he could add into the mix. This time, though, he has a few half-assed melodies and a few scribbles of lines, but mostly he has a _baby_. Annabel's teething, and she's red-cheeked and fractious, up lots during the night and clinging to Brendon and screaming whenever Sara comes to take over. Brendon's exhausted, and on more than one occasion he's woken up on the couch in his music room basement with Ryan and Jon all shaking their heads at him and Spencer rolling his eyes.

Spencer's just as tired as Brendon, though. It's hard to sleep through Annabel crying, especially when she won't stop and she just screams more when Brendon tries to apply the teething gel.

Spencer stumbles into Annabel's nursery with a bottle, and a drink for Brendon.

"Sorry," Brendon says, and Spencer shrugs.

"Poor kid," Spencer says. "That must hurt like a bitch."

"Yeah," Brendon says, hugging her tighter.

"You want me to take her?" Spencer says, holding his hands out. "Give you a break."

Annabel doesn't complain, just curls into Spencer's chest as Brendon hands her over.

"She's so tired," Brendon says, stroking her hair. She's dark haired, just like him, and her hair is downy and soft beneath his fingertips.

"Two teeth now, though," Spencer says. His fingers brush Brendon's, and Brendon can't stop his soft intake of breath. "You should go to bed," Spencer goes on. "Get some sleep."

"You sure?" Brendon asks, after a moment.

"Sure I'm sure," Spencer tells him. He yawns. "She's sleepy, she'll go off in a bit. The medicine will kick in in a few minutes."

"Yeah," Brendon nods. He wants to say goodnight properly, but she'll get upset if she sees him leave. He hangs around by the door for a few moments, just long enough for Spencer to hold her closer and kiss her forehead.

\--

"So," Brendon says, jumping the last four steps down into the basement. "It's someone's birthday this weekend."

"Really?" Ryan raises his eyebrows. "That's amazing. There should be some sort of parade."

"Fuck you," Brendon says, wrapping Ryan in an awkward hug, elbows everywhere. "What are we doing for my birthday, guys?"

Jon leans in and ruffles his hair, clapping him on the back. "I say, _party_."

"I second that," Spencer says, waving his drumsticks in the air.

"Me third," Ryan says, from somewhere against Brendon's shirt.

"Awesome," Brendon says. "Where, who's coming, who's bringing the shit?"

Ryan pushes him away, rolling his eyes and smoothing down his t-shirt. "My place, everyone who's anyone, and as for the shit, I'm pretty sure we're all fixed up."

Brendon beams. "Fucking _A_."

"And Sara's staying with Annabel," Jon says, "Spencer fixed it all up. So you are footloose and fancy free."

Brendon grins at Spencer, who waves his drumstick at him in acknowledgement. "Dude," Brendon says, "fucking _party_."

"Like you wouldn't believe," Ryan says, and he laughs.

\--

Brendon spends thirty minutes telling Sara things she already knows, and listing every member of his family in a driveable area with their cellphones and their home phone numbers. Annabel is glaring at him mutinously, hitting a wooden spoon against a Tupperware box. She wants to play and Brendon is ignoring her in favor of detailing every single emergency service in the district.

"I think I've got it," Sara tells him, in a serious voice. "I think we'll be just fine."

"Sure you will," Spencer says, rolling his eyes as he comes down the stairs. He grabs Brendon by the elbow. "We're going to be late to your own birthday party, so, say your goodbyes and get the fuck out the front door."

Brendon starts to tell her Ryan's phone number, when Spencer claps his hand over Brendon's mouth.

"She's looked after Annabel before," Spencer says. "Say bye to your daughter."

"But-" Brendon starts.

Spencer raises an eyebrow.

"Bye, Annabel," Brendon says, sadly. He scoops her up and kisses her nose. "Be good for Sara, and don't start creating evil empires in the basement, because I _will_ find out, and if she makes you mashed carrot, at least be polite and _try_ it before you throw it on the floor-"

" _Brendon_."

"And be good," Brendon says, hurriedly. He kisses her again, and she clutches on to his shirt. "Bye, bye."

Spencer leans in and kisses her cheek. "We'll see you in the morning, sweetheart," he says, and then they're outside on the driveway, and Brendon's looking miserable.

"We could have taken her with us," Brendon says.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "And you wouldn't have been able to drink or smoke. One night only, it's just you. Shut up and enjoy it."

"You're like, the meanest person I know," Brendon says, because he can't say, _I want you_.

Spencer throws his car keys at Brendon's head. "You can drive."

\--

Brendon's drunk, and he's high, and he's sprawled across Ryan's couch with his feet in Jon's lap, waiting for him to pack another bowl. Shane's over in the armchair, and he's flown in from New York especially for Brendon's birthday. Brendon's kind of stupidly pleased to see him; two years is too long for Shane to be stuck in New York when he should be in Las Vegas, hanging out with Brendon and Annabel. Brendon misses Dylan, too, and not even Shane showing him videos of Dylan yapping at his camera is enough to fill the gap. Brendon's made Shane promise that he'll bring Dylan back soon so that they can introduce him to Annabel. "Good," Brendon says, lazily, and pokes Jon in the thigh to make him hurry up.

He doesn't, and Brendon's starts talking about Annabel, trying to explain how Annabel tries to move forward on her front, her arms and legs going everywhere. He thinks pretty much everybody's eyes have glazed over, but that's probably just because the weed is really strong. There are people everywhere, people and beer and cigarettes and everyone's clapping him on the back and hugging him and wishing him a happy birthday.

"Brendon," Ryan says, carefully, after a while, "shut the fuck up."

"My daughter's amazing," Brendon says, proudly.

"Spencer," Ryan yells. "Spencer, come and make him shut the fuck up about Annabel."

"I thought you _liked_ Annabel," Brendon says, sadly. He pokes Jon in the thigh.

"We do, we love her," Ryan says, rolling his eyes, "but if you mention her one more time we're going to have to kill you."

"And no one likes bloodshed on their birthday," Jon tells him.

"You love her," Brendon sings, "she melts the hearts of men."

" _Spencer_!" Ryan yells.

Spencer's drunk, red-cheeked and hazy around the edges. He leans across the back of the couch and passes Brendon another beer.

"They don't want to talk about Annabel," Brendon tells him.

"That's because they're stupid," Spencer says, slowly. "Stupid people."

Ryan just stares at him. "You're just as bad as he is."

"Talk to me about Annabel," Brendon says, leaning his cheek against the back of the couch. The material scratches at his skin. "Tell me how awesome she is and how much you love her."

Brendon watches Spencer swallow, the way his throat moves. He wants to reach over and touch, stroke his fingers across Spencer's skin.

"She's awesome," Spencer tells him, thickly. "And I love her."

"You two are _not allowed to talk about Annabel anymore_ ," Ryan says, throwing a handful of peanuts at Brendon's head. A couple of them land in his lap, and he picks them up and eats them, beaming at Ryan.

Ryan makes a _noise_. "Right," he says, "you two are banished outside until you can shut up about your kid."

"That's not fair," Brendon says, "it's _my_ birthday."

"Yes, and you're driving me crazy, and it's my house. Someone help me get them outside."

Which is how Brendon and Spencer end up on Ryan's patio, staring at each other and at the locked patio doors.

"Well," Brendon says. "Ryan's gotten pretty strong."

"I think it was mostly Shane." Spencer shrugs, waving his bottle. "Or you've gotten pretty drunk. Lightweight. At least they gave us more beer."

"They shouldn't lock me outside on my birthday," Brendon persists. He sits down on the steps, resting his chin on his knee. "And they're stupid for not wanting to talk about Annabel."

"Yes," Spencer nods, carefully sitting down next to Brendon. Brendon thinks that maybe Spencer is a _lot_ drunker than he seems. " _Stupid_."

"My daughter's amazing, right?" Brendon says. He bumps his shoulder against Spencer's. Spencer's kind of drunk, though, so Brendon thinks that he won't remember that Brendon just doesn't bother moving away. Brendon leans into Spencer's side, and lets out a sigh.

"The amazingest," Spencer says. "I've got a photo, you've seen, right?"

Brendon remembers. He didn't think that Spencer did. "In your wallet?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, nodding. "You wanna see again?"

"Sure," Brendon says, because Annabel's his baby and he's kind of a little bit crazy about her. He's also kind of crazy about how into her Spencer is.

Spencer leans over into his lap so that he can hook his wallet out of his back pocket. He steadies himself with a hand to Brendon's thigh, and Brendon can't help it, he wants Spencer more than he's ever wanted anyone.

"Show me," Brendon manages, and his mouth's dry and his tongue's sticking to the roof of his mouth.

Spencer fishes a picture out of his wallet. It's the same one he'd had at New Year, the same one he'd given to the cab driver when he'd turned up on Brendon's doorstep in the middle of the night. "She's really pretty," he says.

"Like father, like daughter," Brendon says, lightly.

Spencer's staring at him, and Brendon tries to swallow. He can't.

"Yeah," Spencer says. He's looking at Brendon's mouth, and Brendon wishes he were either stone-cold sober so that he could run away before Spencer did something _really_ stupid like kiss him, or about a thousand times more drunk, so he wouldn't be able to remember what this felt like in the morning. He wishes and wishes that Spencer would want to kiss him when he wasn't drunk, when he wasn't just at a party and wanting to make out.

Spencer closes the distance between them and presses his mouth to Brendon's. He tastes like beer and weed, and Brendon makes a sound in his throat and tangles his fingers into Spencer's hair, tugging him closer. Spencer's hands are on his sides, sliding up his shirt and cupping his jaw and Brendon can't help it, he's kissing Spencer back, _hard_. Spencer's kissing him just as enthusiastically and this is _killing_ him because it's even better than he remembered, Spencer stroking at his jaw with his thumbs, but this isn't right. Brendon _can't_.

He _can't_.

He pulls away, and he ducks his head when Spencer tries to lean in again, tries to pull him closer. "No," Brendon says, " _no_."

"Brendon-" Spencer reaches for him.

Brendon stands up. "I can't," he says. "I don't want to screw everything up."

"You won't," Spencer says, desperately. "This won't screw up anything."

"Tomorrow-" Brendon says, hoping that's enough of an explanation.

"We can pretend it didn't happen," Spencer tells him, reaching for him, saying, "It's just a _kiss_. It's a party."

Brendon wants him to be lying, he wants Spencer to be lying so much it _hurts_. He wants Spencer to want this as much as he does. His hands clench into fists by his sides. "It's better this way," he manages, after a while. He looks down so he doesn't have to meet Spencer's gaze, because then Spencer would _know_. He'd know, and that would change _everything_.

"Okay," Spencer says, softly, eventually. "Okay."

Brendon swallows.

Spencer goes to bang on the windows to get someone to let them back inside.

\--

Brendon wakes up sprawled face first across Ryan's guest bed. He groans, and pulls the pillow over his head. He's pretty sure he's the most fucked he's ever been. He doesn't know how to even _try_ and get over Spencer. He sighs, and yawns, trying to see where he left his phone and his wallet. They're on the floor by the bed, and he blinks a few times and tries to read the time. It's eleven, which isn't late, apart from how his parents are throwing him a birthday barbecue and he has to get home and pick up Annabel soon.

He really, really needs coffee.

He stumbles downstairs, through the remains of last night's party. There are people asleep on the couches and memorably, someone asleep on the floor half in and out of the living room. He's rubbing his eyes when he trips into the kitchen; Spencer's leaning over the coffee machine, trying to change the filter.

"Hey," Spencer says, and Brendon's heart thumps loudly in his chest. He remembers Spencer's breath, warm against his cheek, the way his fingers felt against his jaw.

"Hey," Brendon echoes. His throat's dry.

"Coffee won't be long," Spencer tells him, reaching for a fresh filter. "Or there's some Red Bull on the counter if you can't wait that long."

Brendon reaches for a Red Bull. "You want one?" he asks, tilting one towards Spencer.

"No," Spencer says. "Red Bulls and hangovers don't mix."

"Pfft," Brendon says, and knocks back half the can in one go. He's embarrassed, and he's fucked up, and he chokes, coughing.

"You okay?" Spencer asks, straightening.

"Sure," Brendon says, red-faced. He coughs again. "Clearly I forgot to put my co-ordinated head on today."

Spencer smiles, ruefully, and glances towards the clock on the microwave. "Still time," he says.

Brendon nods. He's trying to make this as normal as he can, because last night can't be a big deal. He doesn't want this to change anything between the two of them; Brendon's the one with the stupid crush, Spencer's just the guy who wants someone to make out with at parties. It's not Spencer's fault that they were locked outside and Brendon was the only other person around.

Brendon swallows. "I've got to go, soon," he says, and Spencer nods. Brendon takes a deep breath. "Do you want to come with me? It's only a lame party at my mom and dad's, but Annabel would like you to be there."

Spencer blinks, and puts down the lid on the coffee machine. It starts to percolate noisily behind him. "Are you sure?" he asks. "It's kind of a family thing."

Well, _duh_ , Brendon thinks. "Yeah," he says. "My parents are probably expecting you. Come on, say yes."

"Do I have time to grab a shower when we get home?" he asks. "I don't want to turn up smelling like beer and weed."

Brendon forces a smile. He likes that smell. "Sure," he says, glancing at the microwave clock. "Let's just have coffee and then go, okay?"

Spencer nods, and busies himself by clearing the empty beer bottles into boxes for recycling.

 _Okay_ , Brendon thinks.

\--

Annabel has three teeth, and she shows every single person at Brendon's family birthday party. Mostly Brendon corners everyone and gets them to look, but it's pretty much the same thing. There's a barbecue in the garden, and for some reason Brendon's not _entirely_ sure of, every single person is wearing a cowboy hat. Including Annabel, who looks adorable. Brendon makes Spencer take photos of them with his camera, and then with his phone too.

Ryan sends him a text in response that just says, _ur ded 4 wakin me up_.

Jon says, _ry has lost his mojo. He is v grumpy :((((( bb v cute_.

Spencer just snorts a laugh and then disappears to send text message after text message to Ryan, just to annoy him.

Everyone fusses over Annabel, and Brendon's left poking his brothers in the side and saying, "um, whose birthday is it? Not my _baby's_ ," until people start paying attention to him.

"You're such a birthday whore," Spencer says, over a glass of juice.

Brendon sinks down onto the grass next to him. He tips his head back; his mom has Annabel, and she's talking to Mikey about how babies get teeth. "Of course," he says. "It's the best way to be."

Spencer rolls his eyes.

Brendon stretches out his feet and kicks off his flip-flops. It's warm, not too hot, and he's tired. He yawns.

"Don't fall asleep," Spencer says, elbowing him.

"I won't," Brendon says, closing his eyes. "I'm just resting my eyes."

"Hmm," Spencer says, nudging his ankle. "I've heard that one before."

"We are not on tour now," Brendon says, primly, without opening his eyes.

Brendon's already half asleep when he hears Spencer say, softly, "No. We're not on tour now."

\--

Brendon's still half-asleep when his sister comes over to say that Annabel needs changing.

"Oh," she says, and Brendon's too tired to open his eyes. "Brendon's asleep. Where's her diaper bag, I guess I could do it?"

"Late night last night," Spencer explains. "I'll change her, it's okay."

"Okay," Kyla says, doubtfully. "If you're sure."

"It's fine," Spencer says. "I've done it about a million times."

"Okay, then," Kyla says, and then the sun's in Brendon's face because Spencer's clambered to his feet and reached for his baby.

Brendon relaxes, and lets himself fall asleep.

\--

 

"I was thinking," Spencer says, a few days later. "Maybe we could go away after we finish writing this stupid album. Like, take Annabel away somewhere."

They're in the kitchen, looking for snacks to take back down to the basement. Brendon tries very hard not to drop anything. His breath is all caught in his throat.

"Cool," Brendon manages, "sounds good to me."

"Like, Disneyland or something," Spencer goes on.

Brendon drops the chips. "Are you for fucking _real_?" he asks, a grin spreading across his face.

Spencer shrugs. "It'd be pretty cool, right?" he says, kneeling down to try and clean up the mess Brendon's chips have left.

"The _coolest_ ," Brendon says. "Let's' go to the fucking Magic Kingdom. Annabel's going to have the best vacation ever. Fuck, let's go to Disney World. I've never been. Orlando, fuck."

"Should I, you know, look in to booking a hotel? Or a villa? And flights, I guess?"

Brendon tells himself there's a very good reason he's in love with Spencer. Fucking _Disney World_. "Fuck, yeah," he says. "We should get a villa, then we can chill by ourselves," Brendon says.

"Okay," Spencer says. "I'll get onto it."

"I'm going to tell Annabel," Brendon says, with a grin. He tugs Spencer into a hug, quick and hard, and then runs upstairs to find his baby.

"She won't understand!" Spencer yells after him.

"It's _Disney_ ," Brendon yells back. "She'll get it."

\--

Spencer sighs, and cracks his knuckles.

Brendon yawns. They're in the living room, Annabel sitting on the floor and hitting a Tupperware box with a wooden spoon. Sara's reading a magazine, half watching the TV with Brendon, and Spencer's on his laptop, looking at the Disney World website.

"Can I see?" Brendon asks, twisting so he's half hanging off the couch. "Show me."

"No," Spencer says, moving the laptop so that Brendon can't see the screen. "Fuck you."

"Bah, bah, bah, bah," Annabel says, in time with her drumming.

"See?" Spencer says. "Annabel agrees. Go the fuck away, so it can be a surprise."

"Annabel is being brainwashed by _you_ ," Brendon says, darkly. "The two of you are conspiring against me."

"Sure we are," Spencer says, nudging at Annabel with his foot. "Aren't we, Annabel? We're like Pinky and the Brain."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "My daughter is the Brain, obviously."

"Obviously," Spencer agrees, without looking up from the screen.

"I hate you both," Brendon grumbles, folding his arms.

Sara laughs. "You poor thing," she says, rubbing Brendon's shoulder. "Being taken on vacation by your- by Spencer. It's a very hard life."

"The whole world's out to get me," Brendon proclaims, as the doorbell rings. "Cool, pizza," he says. "Got any cash, Spence?"

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "Should have known I'd end up paying for it," he says.

"I got it last time," Brendon reminds him, hands out. "And the time before. It's totally your turn."

"I've never been to Disney World," Sara sighs, changing the channel.

Spencer passes him his wallet.

\--

"The Disney Vacation Club, huh?" Jon says.

Brendon beams, and Spencer throws his drumstick at Jon's head. Ryan grimaces and tells them to get the fuck back to work.

\--

Spencer keeps wandering around the house muttering things like _timeshares_ and _resort points_ and looking bemused. Brendon keeps waltzing Annabel around the kitchen and singing her songs from _Cinderella_.

Jon laughs a lot and pokes Ryan in the side; Ryan retaliates by shoving Jon off his seat and rolling his eyes. He has a new notebook full of song ideas; Brendon secretly thinks that their album is going to have to be at least three discs long to include all the material Ryan refuses to sideline.

\--

"So," Brendon says, "if we're going to go on any of the rides, Spence, who's going to look after Annabel?"

Spencer looks up from his laptop and blinks.

\--

Spencer extends the booking for Sara, Zack, Jon, and Ryan.

\--

"We're not going to fucking Disney World," Ryan yells, "we're not leaving this fucking house until we've got these songs fixed."

"My baby is _asleep_ ," Brendon yells back, "because it is two in the fucking morning, and my nanny is asleep on the couch, and you're being a fucking _dick_. The songs are _fine_."

"They are _not fine_ ," Ryan yells, "they need more work. If it wasn't for you and your stupid baby-"

"Don't call my baby stupid," Brendon shouts. "What did she ever do to _you_?"

"Apart from fuck everything up?"

Brendon punches Ryan in the face.

\--

"Sorry," Ryan says, coming to sit beside Brendon on the back step.

Brendon nods, and kicks at the step with his heel.

"I think Spencer wants to punch me too," Ryan goes on. "If it's any consolation. Knowing you're not the only one."

Brendon nods again. "If you want to yell at me, that's fine," he says, after a minute. "But if you ever say anything about Annabel again, I'm going to do worse than punch you in the face. No joke."

"That's fair," Ryan says.

"Yeah," Brendon says. He clears his throat. "How's your face?"

"Kind of sore," Ryan admits, touching at his cheek. "But luckily you throw a pretty shitty punch."

"Yeah, well." Brendon shrugs.

"I'm sorry," Ryan says again. "I should never have said that about Annabel."

"No," Brendon says.

They sit in the darkness for a long minute.

"The songs, Ryan-" Brendon starts.

"They're good," Ryan interrupts. "I know."

Brendon brings his knees up to his chin and folds his arms across them, resting his chin on his hands.

"I'm sorry I hit you," Brendon says, eventually.

"I deserved it," Ryan says, shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably. "You want to come back inside any time soon?"

Brendon looks out across the yard. "Not yet," he says.

Ryan touches him awkwardly, squeezing his shoulder. "I don't think that. About Annabel. I don't think that. None of us do."

Brendon nods. "Yeah," he says. "I know."

"None of us do," Ryan says again. "I was just-" he stops. "I was letting off steam. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Brendon says.

Ryan squeezes his shoulder again and goes back inside.

\--

When Brendon goes inside a while later, his house is quiet. Sara's gone from the couch in the living room, and when Brendon checks the basement, it's in darkness. When he goes upstairs, he finds Spencer sitting on the floor outside Annabel's room, Annabel curled up in his arms, asleep.

"What are you doing down there?" Brendon asks, leaning against the wall and sliding down until he's next to Spencer.

Spencer shrugs, sleepily. "Just sitting," he says. "I didn't want to stand up and wake her."

Brendon nods. He tucks Annabel's shawl around her so that she's warm; her head tipping back a little as Spencer shifts.

"You okay?" Spencer asks, after a minute.

"Sure," Brendon says, nodding. It's not the first time he's hit Ryan, but it hasn't happened since they were teenagers and fighting over their first album. "I shouldn't have hit him."

"If you hadn't, I would have," Spencer says. "Fucking dick."

"Spence-"

"No," Spencer says, tightening his hold on Annabel. Her fingers curl into her shawl. "He had no fucking right to say that, none at all."

"He's just pissed, that's all." Brendon shrugs. "I get it. Things have changed for us." He hums the line, straightening Annabel's shawl.

"Brendon," Spencer says, slowly. "So what if things are different? Things change. We adjust. Ryan needs to figure his shit out."

Brendon ducks his head, nodding. He squares his shoulders; he's really fucking tired. His shoulders ache and his arms and legs feel shaky. He needs some sleep. "Come on," he says, climbing to his feet. "Give her to me, I'll put her down."

Spencer gathers Annabel and her shawl up carefully, and Brendon takes her, leaning in and kissing her forehead. She wriggles, sleepily, and then Brendon puts her down in her crib, tucking her in. He leans over the crib and watches her for a moment, the way her hair brushes her skin, her tiny fingers, her eyelashes against her cheek. The soft sound of her breathing. Brendon thinks that she's the best thing that he's ever done in his whole life, and he knows he's never, ever going to regret the decision he made to take her. He brushes her hair off of her forehead, and straightens her covers.

When he turns around, Spencer's standing in the doorway.

"Brendon," Spencer says, softly.

"I'm going to bed," Brendon says, trying to slide past Spencer and into the hallway. "Get some sleep."

"Brendon," Spencer says again, grabbing Brendon's elbow. "Ryan was just letting off steam. You don't believe what he said, right?"

"What?" Brendon says. "No. I know."

"But do you?" Spencer asks. "Like, really?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, nodding quickly. He pulls Annabel's door to. "I get it."

"Brendon," Spencer says, for the third time. "Annabel never fucked anything up."

"Apart from how she did," Brendon says, under his breath.

"No," Spencer says. " _No_."

Brendon doesn't say anything. He's too tired. His foot taps against the skirting board.

"Fuck," Spencer says, "come here."

Brendon lets himself be dragged into a hug, lets himself lean against Spencer's chest as Spencer wraps his arms around Brendon and holds on.

"She hasn't fucked anything up," Spencer says, softly, his beard brushing Brendon's ear. "She's amazing."

Brendon starts to shake. "I hit him, Spence," he says. "I hit him. I didn't even think. I just hit him. He said that about Annabel and I just hit him."

"He was being a dick."

"Everything's changed," Brendon says, and he can't help it, he can't let go. He rubs his nose against Spencer's neck and hugs Spencer harder.

"Sometimes things change for the better," Spencer says, awkwardly.

Brendon remembers kissing Spencer, how he tasted, what it felt like to tangle his fingers in Spencer's hair. "Yeah," he says.

"It's late," Spencer says. "We should get some sleep."

"Oh," Brendon says, pulling away. "Right." He ducks his head, toeing at the carpet. "I guess I'll see you in the morning, then."

Spencer takes half a step forward, then stops and folds his arms. "Yeah. I guess so."

Brendon swallows, then turns around and goes into his room.

\--

Ryan turns up just before lunch the following day. He pushes past Brendon when he opens the door, and stands in the hallway looking awkward.

"Hey," Brendon says, uncomfortably. Ryan's cheekbone is reddened from where Brendon hit him.

"Look," Ryan says, "look, I said a really shitty thing last night and I'm really sorry."

"It's okay-" Brendon starts, but Ryan just shakes his head quickly.

"No," he says. "It's not."

Brendon just swallows. Spencer's standing in the kitchen doorway, Annabel on his hip. She's playing with her penguin, making _bah bah bah_ noises and grabbing onto Spencer's shirt.

"Like, sometimes I get so caught up in what I'm writing," Ryan goes on, "I get so caught up I forget that there's stuff going on outside of my head-"

"You're a fucking adult," Spencer says, from the doorway. "You're not a kid anymore."

"No," Ryan says, "I know. I know, and I'm sorry."

Brendon swallows.

"Um," Ryan goes on, "I went out and I bought some stuff," he holds out a bag, all folded up, and shakes it at Brendon. "I bought some stuff for Annabel. To say sorry."

"Shouldn't have said it in the first place," Spencer says, under his breath.

Ryan just nods, and holds out the bag for Brendon to take.

"Ryan-" Brendon starts.

"Open it," Spencer says.

Inside the bag is a ladybug outfit and a baby keyboard.

"Is it okay?" Ryan asks, awkwardly. "I didn't know what size to go for. Or whether she had any instruments."

Brendon checks the label and then holds the ladybug outfit up. "She'll grow into it," he says. "Thanks."

"Excellent," Spencer says. "Here, Brendon, Annabel wants you. Ryan's going to help me in the kitchen."

Brendon takes Annabel, and she coos at him and smiles. Brendon coos back, and he tries not to think about what Spencer's saying to Ryan in the kitchen.

\--

When Jon arrives, Ryan and Spencer are still closeted in the kitchen. Brendon is singing to Annabel, putting CD after CD into the CD player and singing and dancing along so that she claps and laughs.

"Where's Sara?" Jon asks, dropping his bag on the floor and doing a lazy, clumsy tumble over the back of the couch and kicking Spencer's hoodie onto the floor.

"Called her and told her not to come over till later," Brendon says, grinning and wiping his forehead on his shirt. "She was here really late last night."

"Cool," Jon says, reaching into his bag and bringing out a six pack. "You want one?"

Brendon picks Annabel up and swings her into the air so that she laughs. "Later," he says. "We're only half way through The Great Brendon and Annabel Musical Experience."

"Oh yeah?" Jon says, putting his hands between his head. "What's up next?"

"Electric Light Orchestra," Brendon says, flicking through his CD cases and dropping a couple more on a teetering pile on the floor. "Mr. Blue Sky?"

"Ah," Jon says, nodding seriously. "A wise choice. Where are Spencer and Ryan?"

"In the kitchen," Brendon says, shrugging. He doesn't meet Jon's eyes, keeping a tight hold on Annabel as he leans down and swaps the CD. "They're doing their thing, You know."

Jon nods. "You okay?"

"Sure," Brendon says. "I shouldn't have hit him, though."

Jon shrugs. "It wasn't the first time."

Brendon eyes the back of the CD case, pressing skip until he gets to the track he wants. "Still," he says. "I shouldn't have."

"Hmmm," Jon says. "I don't think Spencer would agree with you. Or me. Or Ryan, even. He felt pretty shitty, after."

The song starts, keyboards, drums. "We should cover this," Brendon says. "What do you think? Next tour? Or, you know. Whenever."

"Yeah," Jon says. "Cool. But, you know what Ryan said wasn't right, don't you?"

"Yeah," Brendon agrees. "Spencer and Ryan both said."

Jon sighs. "We all love your baby, Brendon."

"Sure you do," Brendon says. "She's amazing. Look at her. But don't tell me you'd rather we didn't have to take a baby on tour, or write our album to my nanny's schedule."

Jon doesn't say anything.

"See?" Brendon says, shrugging his shoulders and making Annabel giggle by making her penguin rub noses with her. "You can't."

"I'd rather we didn't have to spend half of every tour sleeping on a bus," Jon says. "I'd like it if we didn't have to live off fucking truck stop burgers and if we could have a fucking drink without having to be on the bus with a hangover. I'd like it if there were showers and somewhere to do our laundry, and somewhere to sleep that isn't a bunk. But there isn't, there's just us, and it's _tour_ , and that's what it is. That's the deal." He shrugs. "There's you, and there's your baby, and that's what _that_ is, so. It helps that she's pretty amazing."

Brendon nods, slowly.

"Here," Jon says, holding his hands out. "Let me hold my favorite baby. Hand her over."

Brendon rolls his eyes. "I knew you couldn't resist," he says, and he passes her to Jon, who shuffles back so that Annabel can sit up against him and show him her sucked penguin.

"Well," Jon says, tickling Annabel with one hand so that she squeals and waves her arms and kicks her legs. "She's pretty adorable. Just so you know."

"Yeah," Brendon says. "I know."

Jon meets his eyes, and smiles. "Song's finished," he says, after a moment, and Brendon jumps, and drops to his knees by his CD shelves, flicking through until he finds what he's looking for.

\--

Brendon's part way through the second chorus of Gym Class Heroes' _Cookie Jar_ when he realizes that Spencer and Ryan are standing in the doorway. Brendon just beams and scoops up Annabel, dancing her around the room and doing his very best impression of Travis.

"You know that's not a song about cookies, right?" Ryan asks, finally, grinning.

Brendon flips him off and rubs his nose against Annabel's so that she laughs. "Want you to be my one and only," he sings, and he refuses to look at Spencer, sweeping Annabel above his head till she squeals.

"Fuck," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "Travis is out of a job."

Brendon puts his hand on his hip, and concentrates on not dropping Annabel. "You _wish_ you could do it as well as me."

"Sure," Spencer says. "I dream of nothing else."

Brendon ducks his head and straightens Annabel's t-shirt. He wants to ask Ryan and Spencer what they were talking about, why they were in the kitchen for over half an hour. He doesn't, because he doesn't want to know the answer.

He doesn't, but Jon does. Brendon hears him ask Ryan if everything's okay.

"Yeah," Ryan says, and Brendon sits down on the floor with Annabel and lets her sit in between his legs. She lets herself fall forwards, resting on her hands and bending her elbows, once, twice.

"That's right, Annabel," Brendon says, "you want to crawl, right?" He lifts her up, and puts her down on her hands and knees. She takes one look at him, disappointed, and sinks down onto her tummy. "No, okay, I get it. No crawling today."

"So," Ryan says. "Are we going to write today, or what?"

Brendon tickles Annabel's tummy as she rolls onto her back. He doesn't look up. "So long as we can do it with Annabel around," he says. "Sara's not coming by until later."

There's a pause. "Sure," Ryan says. "You want to go down to the basement, or stay up here?"

Brendon just lets out a breath. "Downstairs," he says. "Spence, you want to grab some of her toys?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, and he's smiling. "Sure."

"Cool," Brendon says, "come on, let's go."

\--

They declare their songs finished the night before they go to Disney World, four hours before they're supposed to leave for the airport. Ryan and Jon promptly disappear home, leaving Brendon and Spencer to co-ordinate packing, sleeping and Annabel with not missing their flight.

"Who's stupid fucking idea was it to fly across the fucking _country_ with a baby?" Brendon complains, trying to put another load of laundry on at the same time as throwing sippy cups and plastic spoons and Annabel's favorite tiger bowl into a suitcase.

"You're the one who wanted to go to fucking Disney World," Spencer grumbles, tripping over Brendon's suitcase and dragging a bag of Annabel's toys. "Half way across the fucking country just to see fucking Mickey Mouse. What the fuck. You know there's a perfectly good Disneyland in LA, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever," Brendon says, leaning over and poking Spencer in the side. "Like we haven't been there a million times. Stop fucking complaining about going to fucking Epcot. Anyway. You love it really."

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "This is my dream vacation."

"Shut up," Brendon says, "and go make sure we've packed Annabel's diapers."

"Because they don't sell diapers in Florida," Spencer complains.

"You're the one who booked the stupid middle of the night flight," Brendon says, trying to find the unopened jar of formula. "Did we pack her toothbrush?"

"She'll need it in the morning," Spencer reminds him, sticking his head back around the kitchen door. "I'll put it with ours, then we'll remember."

"Diaper bag for the flight," Brendon yells after him. "Fuck, this was a stupid idea."

"Have you packed _anything_?" Spencer asks, coming back down the stairs. "Have you even gotten your suitcase out?"

"I'm totally on it," Brendon says, chucking Annabel's pants and t-shirts straight out of the dryer and into her case. "Just give me two minutes."

"Worst fucking idea _ever_ ," Spencer reiterates.

\--

The flight is _terrible_. Annabel screams so much the people in the row in front turn around and ask why they can't look after their baby better. Brendon – miserable and exhausted – shrinks down into his seat, but Spencer snaps at them, asking them to have a little compassion for a baby on her first flight.

Jon and Ryan try to sleep with blankets pulled up over their heads, and Brendon's left trying to explain to the stewardess that Sara isn't Annabel's mom after some weird confusion about Brendon wanting to change Annabel's diaper in the ladies bathroom, where the baby change table was.

Zack, who had flown in on a red-eye just to usher Brendon and the others onto their flight and protect against accidental crazies, looks tired and grumpy.

"I'm never going on vacation again," Brendon complains, after he's endured another excruciating trip to the bathroom where every other passenger on the flight tried to give him the evil eye. "They all hate me."

"Well," Spencer says, and he fumbles with the armrest so Brendon can pass Annabel to him, "maybe. But at least we've got Zack with us. He could hold off the zombie apocalypse, I'm pretty sure he can cope with a flight full of mean people."

"Right on, dude," Zack says, from the end of the row, and he holds out his fist for Spencer to bump.

Brendon manages a weak grin. Annabel's whimpering in his lap, curled into his chest. When Spencer reaches for her, she turns her face into Spencer's t-shirt, and lets him wrap the blanket around her. It's cold in the cabin, the air-conditioning up high. Brendon's cold too, and he zips up his sweatshirt and pulls the hood up. He curls his hand around Annabel, protectively, and shifts so he's leaning into Spencer.

"She okay, do you think?" he asks, softly.

"I just think it made her ears hurt," Spencer says, sleepily. "Taking off. She got scared, that's all."

Brendon strokes Annabel's hair as she falls asleep. "Sleep tight, baby girl," he says, and his fingers brush Spencer's.

"You should maybe get some sleep too," Spencer says, awkwardly.

"Right," Brendon says. "Yeah. Okay."

He leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. _Okay_.

\--

They're in the villa for about fifteen minutes before the entire place is covered in Annabel's stuff.

"It's like a tornado," Ryan says, standing in the doorway and looking impressed. "A tornado of baby paraphernalia."

"She has mad skills," Brendon says, kissing Annabel's forehead and trying not to trip over her blow up doughnut, which Spencer's sitting on the floor, blowing up.

"She's like a superhero," Jon says, coming in and yawning. "Anyone hungry?"

"Fuck, yeah," Spencer says, from the floor.

"Count me in," Brendon says, fervently.

"Cool," Jon says. "Let's go find lunch."

\--

On her first day in Disney World, Annabel meets Snow White, Aladdin, Cinderella, some dwarves, Mickey Mouse and Eeyore. Brendon insists on her having her photo taken with every single one, which makes Spencer roll his eyes, but Brendon just elbows him and tells him to get in the pictures.

He buys her Mickey Mouse ears, which she cries at every time he puts them on her. In the end, Ryan buys a pair and Annabel pokes him over and over, laughing.

They spend far too much money on stupid squishy toys for Annabel and an Aladdin t-shirt for Jon, and a shark bracelet for Spencer. Brendon sings Beauty and the Beast songs and by the time they're tumbling into the restaurant for dinner, Annabel's sleeping and they're being not so secretly followed by a few girls who mostly giggle a lot and point.

Annabel sits in her high chair at the table with them, and Brendon feeds her from a jar of mushed vegetables. Sara tells them joke after joke and Zack agrees to have his photo taken with the Beast, so long as Brendon come join him.

It's kind of like the best vacation ever.

\--

"My baby's a mutant," Brendon sings, at three in the morning, stumbling over the pans Annabel was hitting with spoons earlier.

He's trying to make her up a bottle and get her to stop crying and maybe not wake everyone else in the place, too. He's so tired that his head hurts.

"You hear that, Annabel," he sings, "you're my mutant baby."

Annabel just cries louder.

"It's the middle of the night," Brendon goes on. "You know what the middle of the night is for? _Sleeping_."

Annabel ignores him, and tugs on Brendon's shirt.

"You know what you're not doing?" Brendon says, waiting for the microwave to _ping_. "Sleeping. I'll still believe you're a superhero if you wanted to let me sleep, you know. We could keep it a secret, just between us. We wouldn't have to tell all the other superheroes."

Annabel shakes her head, and in the process, wipes her nose on Brendon's shirt.

"Thanks," Brendon tells her, tugging open the microwave door. "I love you too."

Annabel scrunches her face up and cries.

\--

Brendon takes her back to their room to give her her bottle. There's nowhere comfortable to sit in the kitchen, and at least in his bedroom he can close the door and sit in bed.

He's in the hallway, struggling with Annabel, and her shawl – she sleeps in just a onesie, but it's gotten colder in the middle of the night – and her bottle and the stiff door handle to their room, when Spencer's bedroom door opens.

"Hey," Spencer says, rubbing his eyes. "Let me."

Spencer picks up Annabel's trailing shawl and gets the door open, and then he follows Brendon and Annabel inside and closes the door behind them.

"Let me," Spencer says again, and he holds his hands out.

Brendon relinquishes Annabel and tumbles down onto the bed, face-first, running his hands across the sheets. "She won't sleep," he says, his face smushed up against the pillows. "Mutant baby."

"Ah," Spencer says. "All becomes clear, right Annabel? Have you been keeping your daddy awake again?"

"She's doing it on purpose," Brendon says. "She's an evil mastermind."

"Yeah," Spencer agrees, nodding, and pushing Brendon so he moves over, and Spencer can sit down on the bed. "I get that. Being a tiny baby is just a cover for world domination, right?"

"Right," Brendon says, "She's like Doctor Evil."

"But with more hair," Spencer says, and settles back against the headboard with Annabel in his lap, and the bottle.

\--

"Thanks," Brendon says, after a few minutes. Annabel's finishing off her bottle and Brendon's lying on his side, fiddling with a stray thread on his pillow case.

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "It's fine," he says, as Annabel pushes the rest of the bottle away and waves her arms in the air. "I like it."

Brendon nods. "Come to Daddy," he says, holding his hands out. "Come over here and we'll talk about how you don't look sleepy at all."

"Bah bah bah," Annabel says, and presses an open mouthed milky kiss to Brendon's cheek as Spencer passes her over.

"Babies are the best," Brendon says, ruefully, and wipes his cheek on his shirt. "Thank you for the kiss, Annabel," he says, and kisses her back. "You're the best baby, even if you don't ever want to sleep and you're secretly evil."

"She's not evil," Spencer says, shuffling so he's lying down on his side, propped up on one elbow. He leaves the bottle on Brendon's nightstand. "Are you, Annabel?" he straightens her onesie out, patting her on the back. "There," he says. "That's better."

Brendon shifts so that Annabel's sitting up in between them both. There are a few toys on the nightstand, a rattle and a cloth book full of different textures, and a new baby Eeyore. He scatters them in front of her, and she blows a milky spit bubble and reaches for her rattle, showing it first to Spencer, then to Brendon.

"It's _nighttime_ , Annabel," Brendon tells her. "Nighttime is when babies and daddies are _asleep_."

"I think she's deliberately ignoring you," Spencer says, after a moment. "Maybe she's starting her teenage rebellion early."

"Maybe," Brendon says, sleepily. Annabel claps her hands together and holds out her Eeyore. She's been sucking on his nose. "Tell her a story, Spence," he says. "They always put her to sleep."

"Thanks," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

"No," Brendon says, leaning over and kicking Spencer in the shin. "you know what I mean."

"All her books are in the living room," Spencer says.

"Make something up," Brendon says. Annabel yawns, and Brendon gathers her close, kissing her cheek and her ear and her forehead. "Spencer's going to tell you a story," Brendon tells her, "and then you're going to fall asleep, okay?"

"Bah," Annabel says, and smacks Brendon in the face with her rattle.

"Well," Brendon says, rubbing his face awkwardly, "that's good."

Spencer just laughs. "If you ever, ever tell anyone I did this," he says, and he pokes Brendon in the side, "then I will have you killed. I have connections."

"You so do not," Brendon says, sleepily.

"I could," Spencer says. "And if you tell Ryan about this, then I'm finding connections, just so you know."

"Sure," Brendon says, making sure that Annabel is comfortable on her back, sucking on her Eeyore and looking mournful that it isn't her penguin. "Deal. Your late night storytelling stays a secret to the grave. Cross my heart."

"Okay," Spencer says, and clears his throat. "Why are there so many songs about rainbows," he starts, softly.

Brendon smiles, drowsily. "That's the fucking _Rainbow Connection_ ," he says. "That's not a story."

"It is if I read it," Spencer tells him. "Now shut up, and don't laugh."

"Okay," Brendon says, crossing his heart sleepily, "go on."

"Why are there so many songs about rainbows," Spencer says again, "and what's on the other side?"

Brendon closes his eyes, and falls asleep.

\--

Brendon half wakes up when he hears Annabel start to whimper beside him. He hears Spencer shush her, and gather her up, and then he hears the bedroom door open and close, and then he's asleep again.

\--

When Brendon finally wakes up, the villa is quiet. He blinks sleepily, yawning, and reaches for his phone. "Fuck," he says, because it's twelve o'clock.

He stumbles out of bed, trips over a Kaa fluffy snake they'd picked out for Annabel, and heads for the living room.

Annabel's sitting on the floor surrounded by toys, and Sara's sitting with her back up against the couch. There's no one else around. When Annabel spots him, she bounces up and down on her bottom and holds her hands out, squeaking and making noises.

"Hey, favorite baby," Brendon says, scooping her up and waving her in the air. "Where is everybody?"

"Spencer's in the kitchen making Annabel lunch," Sara says, "and Zack and Ryan and Jon have hit the park."

"Why didn't someone wake me?" Brendon asks, putting Annabel down on the floor again and sinking down beside her, taking each of the toys Annabel's showing him in turn.

"Spencer threatened everyone with death if they so much as made a sound," Sara says. "He's pretty scary, right?"

"Only compared to, like, everyone else in the world, ever."

"That's so not true," Spencer says, sticking his head around the door from the kitchen. "I dispute that."

"Shut up," Brendon says, sticking his tongue out, "You know it's true."

Annabel copies him, sticking her tongue out too. Brendon laughs, and spends the next two minutes waggling his tongue at Annabel and having her waggle hers back.

\--

They have a lazy lunch outside, with Annabel's high chair pulled up to the picnic table. Annabel has a big silly hat on to keep the sun off, and is slathered in sun block. Brendon takes picture after picture, with Spencer and Sara making stupid faces in the background.

Annabel's fascinated with the shadows from the sunlight and the trees; she holds her hands out and watches the shadows on the tray beneath her fingers.

"Annabel," Brendon says, exasperated, "will you just eat some lunch?"

He's trying to feed her some sort of mushed-up jar of food that's supposed to resemble some great American meal and looks quite a lot like puke. Or poop. He's not sure, only it looks pretty horrible. He's trying to eat a sandwich at the same time, but Annabel's refusing to eat when she can look at her hands and the shadows and the way the trees move in the breeze.

"Let me," Sara says, "I've finished mine."

Brendon relinquishes the spoon in relief, and concentrates on wolfing down his sandwich. "We should call the others soon," he says, in between bites. "Find out where they are and go join them."

Sara shrugs. "I could stay here with Annabel this afternoon," she says. "I don't mind, and you and Spence could go and find the others for a few hours."

Brendon meets Spencer's eyes. "Sounds okay to me," he says.

Brendon looks at Annabel. She seems happy, content and quiet. "Okay," he says, finally. "So long as you call me if she needs me."

Sara nods. "Sure," she says. "Go be grown ups for the afternoon."

Spencer splutters. "You've met Brendon, right?"

Brendon chucks a piece of bread at Spencer's head. "Dick," he says.

Spencer just grins. "See?"

Brendon rolls his eyes, and leans in to kiss his daughter's hair.

\--

Neither Jon, Ryan or Zack are answering their phones. Brendon leaves them all a message that says, _call me back, fuckers_ , and hangs up.

"They are deprived of our company, Spence," Brendon says, airily. It's a gorgeous day, beautifully warm and the sun is shining and Brendon's baby is happy and he's out with Spencer in _Disney World_. He wants to lean over and kiss Spencer, but he can't, so he does a cartwheel instead, right there on the path.

"You're such a fucking dick," Spencer tells him, pushing him over on to the grass.

"You're no fun," Brendon says, tumbling back onto the grass and laughing. "Tell me doing a cartwheel doesn't make you feel better."

Spencer just rolls his eyes, chucks his camera at Brendon and does an uneven cartwheel across the grass.

"Okay," he says, sinking down onto the ground beside Brendon. "That was fun."

"Told you," Brendon says, poking Spencer in the side. "You want ice cream? We should get ice cream."

"Fuck, yeah," Spencer says. "Race you."

They end up at the back of the line for ice cream, Spencer maintaining he's won, and Brendon shaking his head and rolling his eyes. "You _cheated_ ," Brendon says, tugging out his wallet as they get to the head of the line.

"Yeah, if by cheating you mean _won fair and square_."

"Like fuck you did," Brendon says.

"Whatever," Spencer says, eyeing the menu.

Brendon presses his nose to the glass. "What flavor do you want?"

"Um," Spencer says, leaning over. "Mint choc chip. And that one. Pistachio."

"You're so weird," Brendon says, shaking his head. "One mint choc chip and pistachio," he says to the guy behind the counter, "and one, um, chocolate, strawberry, mint choc chip and that one at the back with the bits in. And sprinkles."

Spencer blinks. "I'll have sprinkles too," he says, poking Brendon in the side. " _You're_ the weirdo."

Brendon just laughs, and pays for their ice creams.

\--

They eat their ice creams wandering through the park, shoving each other off the paths and laughing. Brendon gets ice cream on his chin, trying to lick the drips off the bottom of his ice cream cone, and Spencer just laughs at him and says it's his own fault for picking too many different types of ice cream.

"There can never be too many types of ice cream," Brendon says, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. "You lie."

"But in one cone, Brendon?"

"Just because you are boring and don't want to try a mountain of ice cream," Brendon tells him, and wipes the back of his hand off on Spencer's shirt.

Spencer just rolls his eyes and pushes Brendon over.

\--

Spencer realizes he's left his sunglasses back at the villa, and they make a detour into the gift shop to buy more. Brendon can't resist buying some too, and they pick out the largest, stupidest, brightest ones they can find, and stand very seriously in the line for the register to pay.

When they wander out into the sunshine, Spencer puts his pair on, and stands by the side of the path with his hands on his hips. "How do I look?" he asks, grinning. "Cool, huh?"

"The coolest," Brendon says, nodding. He puts his own on, and crosses his arms. "How do I look? Fierce, right?"

"Totally," Spencer says. "We should take a picture for Annabel."

Brendon swallows. "Yeah," he says, and fumbles in his pocket for his camera. "She should totally be able to see how cool her-" he stumbles, " _we_ are."

"Right," Spencer agrees. "Stitch is over there, you wanna go get him to pose with us?"

Brendon just laughs. "You, Spencer Smith, are the best fucking person in the _world_."

Brendon thinks that Spencer looks a little pink when he looks at the picture on his camera, after.

\--

They ride the Tower of Terror, and wait in line for pictures afterwards. They're both laughing in the picture, both of them with their stupid sunglasses, and Spencer buys them both a copy and won't take no for an answer when Brendon tries to pay for his own.

"You can buy the ones at the Aerosmith roller coaster thing," Spencer says, and he sticks an extra straw into Brendon's coke and shares.

They do jazz hands the first time they ride the coaster, and then join the line again so that they can do something even _better_ the second time around. They're arguing about _what_ , right up until they get into the car.

"Play dead!" Brendon says.

"Fuck you," Spencer says. "Just make a stupid face, or whatever. That should be easy for you."

"My face is not stupid," Brendon tells him, and elbows Spencer in the side.

"No," Spencer says, quietly.

Brendon blinks. "Dinosaurs," he says, to break the silence.

"Sign of the Cobra," Spencer says, rolling his eyes.

"Okay," Brendon says. "Fangs are fucking _up_."

"This is totally lame," Spencer says.

"You have about ten seconds to think of something better," Brendon points out, as the car starts to move.

"Okay, okay," Spencer says, and his hand brushes Brendon's, just for a moment. "Play fucking dead, whatever."

\--

Brendon buys the pictures, this time, and he laughs at Spencer's stupid expression the whole time they're waiting in line for their next ride.

\--

"What do you want to do next?" Brendon asks, after three more rides and two more pictures, this time with Tigger and Mulan.

Spencer sprawls down on the grass, and passes Brendon a bottle of coke. "I don't know," Spencer says, rolling on to his side. "You think we should head back, see Annabel?"

Brendon yawns, and looks at his watch. "I guess," he says, and it isn't that he doesn't want to go back to the villa, because he misses Annabel every moment he's not with her. It's just. _Spencer_. "I mean. I could call and see if Sara will make her dinner. We could get some food and go see the fireworks. I mean. If you want."

Spencer stills. "You think Annabel will be okay?"

"For a couple more hours?" Brendon shrugs. He does want to go back and see her, pick her up and sing to her. He doesn't like being away from her. "You were with her all morning. I think she'll be good. Just this once."

"Okay," Spencer says. "If we check with Sara and Annabel's good, then cool."

Brendon's fingers twitch. He nods, and reaches for the coke bottle at the same time as Spencer; they both move away and then go for it again at the same time. "Sorry," Brendon says, "you go."

Spencer just grins awkwardly, and takes a gulp before passing the bottle to Brendon.

Brendon doesn't suggest calling Ryan, or Jon, or Zack. There are missed calls on his cellphone, and a couple of text messages. He deletes them. Instead, he calls Sara, and checks on Annabel. _She's fine_ , Sara promises, and she sends three pictures messages just to make sure Brendon knows.

"You hungry?" Brendon asks, after he's replied to each of Sara's texts and shown Spencer the pictures and they've grinned at Annabel in her baby FOB shirt, customized by Pete and dispatched in seven different baby sizes, as soon as he'd found out about Annabel back in September.

"I'm pretty sure I could manage _something_ ," Spencer says.

Brendon just grins, and clambers to his feet. "Come on," he says, holding out his hand without even thinking.

Spencer grabs hold and stands up.

Brendon's not sure, but he thinks that maybe Spencer holds on a moment too long. He swallows, and they go pick out a restaurant, the one with the biggest burgers and a bar, where Brendon finds himself watching the way Spencer's throat works as he tips his head back and finishes his bottle of beer. Brendon wants to lean in and run his tongue down the hollow of Spencer's throat.

He doesn't.

\--

After they've finished eating, Brendon picks a space on the grass to watch the fireworks. He sinks down onto the ground and pats the space next to him.

Spencer just rolls his eyes and sits down. "You know there are seats, right? Benches and shit? Places which _aren't_ the ground."

"Shut up," Brendon says. "Here is better. You get to lay back and look up this way, always the best way to watch fireworks."

"Cold and wet," Spencer grumbles. "This way is _cold_. And I am too full to sit down. You will have to roll me back to the villa. I won't be able to get up again."

"You have no adventure in your soul," Brendon says, rubbing his stomach ruefully. They'd eaten three courses at the restaurant, and Brendon's full too. He'd ordered the biggest veggie burger on the menu, with extra fries and light on the salad, and cheesy jalapeno peppers to start, and a huge slice of cheesecake to finish.

"I'm never eating again," Spencer says, heavily. "No fucking way."

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says. "Bet you anything you like you'll eat something when we get back to the villa."

"No way," Spencer says firmly, shaking his head. "I am not eating again until the morning. Not a chance."

"Yeah," Brendon says, "no." He grins, rolling onto his side. The ground is cold, Spencer was right. "Let's make a bet. Any terms you want. You'll be hungry again later on."

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Seriously?"

Brendon just nods, and tugs a handful of grass out, poking awkwardly at the soil with his fingertips.

"Okay," Spencer says. "But this is the stupidest fucking bet we've ever made." Brendon doesn't disagree. "I bet you… okay. Diaper duties. If I can't last until tomorrow morning, then I'll change Annabel all day tomorrow. If I do, you change her. Okay?"

Brendon rolls onto his back. "Tomorrow is going to a blissful day of rest," he says.

Spencer kicks him. "For _me_ ," he says. "Tomorrow will be a rest for _me_."

"You wish," Brendon says, lazily.

" _You_ wish," Spencer says, kicking him again.

"Shush," Brendon says. "The fireworks are starting."

"Stupidest bet we've ever made," Spencer reminds him, but he lays back and puts his hands beneath his head, looking up so he can watch the fireworks.

\--

The fireworks end in a haze of yelling and clapping from the crowd, and Brendon joins in, whooping and cheering.

"You're an idiot," Spencer says, but he's smiling, so Brendon just sticks his tongue out and sits up, resting his forearms on his knees.

"Don't lie," he says, with a grin. "You loved them too."

"Fireworks at Disney World," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and sitting up. "All my dreams have come true."

"Fireworks at Disney World with _me_ ," Brendon elbows him and laughs. "Tell me that isn't better."

"Whatever," Spencer says, and he nudges Brendon with his shoulder. "I'm _cold_."

"You're a _loser_ ," Brendon tells him, and he can't help the way it comes out, fond and _warm_. "You want a hug?"

"I want a fucking hoodie," Spencer says, but he nudges Brendon's shoulder with his chin. "You're like a human radiator, warm me the fuck up."

"What did your last servant die of?" Brendon asks, but he shifts so that he can tug Spencer closer and pull him into a hug. He rubs at Spencer's back, the way he rubs at Annabel's. "There," he says, his chin hooked over Spencer's shoulder. "That better?"

"A bit," Spencer says. He wraps his arms around Brendon's back, and Brendon can't help the way his breath catches in his throat as Spencer presses closer. "Getting there."

"Maybe I'm a superhero too, and my superpower is being _warm_ ," Brendon says, trying to laugh. Spencer's hair is tickling his nose. He can feel the flex of Spencer's muscles beneath his palms, and if he moves just a little, he can brush his mouth across Spencer's cheek. "Maybe that's where Annabel gets her powers from."

"We should make you both matching costumes," Spencer says. His voice is muffled; his mouth is pressed up against the collar of Brendon's shirt.

Brendon can feel sweat pooling in the curve of his spine. "Like _The Incredibles_ ," he manages.

"Yeah," Spencer says, softly.

"Not sure red spandex is my thing," Brendon says, after a moment. He wants to stay here, wants to run his hands over Spencer's skin and help him off with his shirt. He wants to see if he really does have freckles across his shoulders. He _wants_.

"You've got to rock spandex if you're a superhero," Spencer tells him. "It's in the rulebook."

"We're reinventing the rulebook," Brendon says. "Panic at the Disco, reinventing rules wherever we go."

"Yeah," Spencer says again. He rubs his nose against Brendon's neck, and Brendon's skin tingles.

"Come on," Brendon manages, pulling away. "We should get back, for Annabel."

"She'll be asleep by now," Spencer says, his fingers curling in Brendon's shirt.

"Yeah," Brendon says, standing up and brushing the mud off his jeans. His hands are shaking. He _wants_. "Still."

\--

Brendon feels cold all the way back to the villa.

\--

"Your baby is _stinky_ ," Jon says, wandering into the living room the following morning, Annabel in his arms.

"Spence," Brendon says, kicking Spencer's thigh. " _Spence_."

"Don't want to," Spencer says, resolutely turning the page of his magazine.

"Spencer," Brendon says. "Change Annabel."

"Nope," Spencer says. "I'm reading."

"Spence," Brendon says. "Annabel needs changing. You _said_. You had a _sandwich_."

"Dude," Ryan says, "she's _your_ baby."

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says. He kicks Spencer again. "But Spencer's going to change her, right?"

"Fine," Spencer says, dropping his magazine and rolling his eyes. "Fine, I'm going to put _my_ magazine down – don't you fucking lose my page, Urie – and I'm going to go and change _your_ baby. Fine."

"Good," Brendon says, with a grin, and he flicks past Spencer's page in his magazine to read the next article.

Jon doesn't ruffle Brendon's hair on the way past, which is kind of weird.

\--

The flight back is much less eventful than the flight out. It's at a much better time, too, the middle of the afternoon, so Brendon feels less like a zombie and more equipped to deal with the potential of Annabel being a monster.

She's _not_ , though, not really. She cries all through take off, but by the time the seatbelt signs blink out she's half asleep, and she spends the rest of the flight asleep across Brendon's lap, her hair brushing Spencer's arm.

When they land, Brendon stretches out. "Ow, pins and needles," he complains, squeezing his hand into a fist. Annabel protests at Brendon moving, scrunching up her fists and her face and Spencer leans over and scoops her up.

"I'll take her," he says, as she starts to cry. "If you can grab my bag. You had her the whole trip, after all."

"Deal," Brendon says, tiredly, and he pats Annabel on the back and helps Spencer undo the buttons on her cardigan. It's going to be warmer when they get off the flight, and Annabel gets hot quickly, like her daddy. "I think she's hungry," he says, yawning, standing up and reaching into the overhead lockers for Spencer's backpack and his own, and Annabel's diaper bag.

"Have we got any of those tubs left?" Spencer asks, and Brendon roots through the bag until he finds what he's looking for, a tub of baby food that still looks just a bit like puke.

Brendon brandishes it with a grin.

"Give it here," Spencer says, holding out his hand. The stewardesses are just getting the doors open, and Spencer and Brendon are going to be one of the first off the plane because of Annabel. "I'll feed her while you wait for the bags."

"You sure?" Brendon asks, uncertainly. Everyone else is busy fighting for their bags in the overhead lockers.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "As long as we can order pizza when we get home."

"Done," Brendon says gratefully. "As much pizza as you can eat, and more besides."

"Cool," Spencer says, awkwardly juggling a whimpering Annabel and his hoodie. "Come on, let's get off this thing."

\--

"Are you going to need me this weekend?" Sara asks, by the baggage carousel. Brendon jumps on to Zack's back, and Zack spins him around, under the pretext of shaking him off. Brendon knows Zack loves it, really.

"No," Brendon tells her. "I've got Spencer, so." He glances over towards the benches, where Spencer's feeding Annabel with a spoon from a plastic tub. Ryan's next to him, awkwardly taking the tub when Spencer offers, and holding out a spoonful for Annabel. Brendon's chest clenches.

"Cool," Sara says. "I'll call you, then? On Sunday night? We can figure out a schedule for when you guys are recording, or whatever."

They've booked The Palms again, taking over their studio for a month for practice and then recording, starting in a couple of weeks. Brendon's already getting hyped up about it.

"Yeah," Brendon says, distractedly. He's staring over at Spencer and his baby, how comfortable Annabel is with him. He hopes that when Spencer's gone, when he's getting on with his own life and not in Annabel's every day, that she remembers him and doesn't ever forget how at ease she is with him right now.

"Hey," Jon says, poking him in the leg. "You want to get down?"

"No," Brendon says, and tightens his hold on Zack's neck. "I'm staying here. I like it here."

"Yeah, but Annabel," Jon says, tugging on Brendon's pant leg.

"She's with Spencer," Brendon says, and clings on to Zack.

Jon glances between Brendon and Annabel. "Right," he says. "Okay."

\--

Brendon orders two of the biggest pizzas on the menu, and then he lets Spencer sprawl across the couch and he takes the armchair instead as they wait for them to be delivered. Annabel sits on his knee and he reads her the whole of _Goodnight Moon_ , pointing out the kittens and the mice as he reads. "Goodnight room, goodnight moon," he says again, as she helps him turn the pages, going backwards instead of forwards, touching at the pictures.

"Thanks," Brendon says, after a while, as he lets Annabel smack her palms against his leg, cooing over the pictures in the book.

"What for?" Spencer says, sitting up.

"You know," Brendon says, smoothing Annabel's hair. "for the vacation. For organizing it, and everything."

"That was nothing," Spencer tells him.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Or not." Annabel tugs on one of the pages, trying to rip it out, and Brendon's left trying to unclench Annabel's fist, telling her _no_ in his firmest voice. She looks up at him with wide eyes, and Brendon says it again, _no_.

"You think she understands you?" Spencer asks.

"She's starting to, maybe," Brendon says. "She's growing up."

Annabel sings at him, a string of nonsense sounds, and clutches at Brendon's shirt.

"Still my baby for a while yet, though, right?" Brendon says, and he kisses the top of her head and reaches for her monkey rattle.

\--

"Hey," Brendon says, poking his head around Spencer's bedroom door and waking him up. Annabel's on his hip and she starts to make noises when she sees Spencer, waving her hands and clapping.

"Hey," Spencer says, sleepily, blinking. "Hey, baby."

"Yeah, so," Brendon starts. "You want to come swimming with us?"

Spencer rubs his eyes and sits up. He's wearing a t-shirt and it's stretched and faded, the collar lose and showing the pale hollow of his collarbone as he yawns, arms in the air. Annabel copies him, waving her arms.

"You ready for a baby?" Brendon asks. "I think she wants you."

"Sure," Spencer says, still half-asleep. He holds his hands out and Annabel leans towards him as Brendon passes her over. Annabel rubs her nose against Spencer's neck, and says _bah bah bah_ over and over as Spencer tries to make himself comfortable against the pillows.

Brendon shoves at Spencer's feet and sprawls across the bottom of Spencer's bed. "So," he says. "Swimming?"

"Swimming?"

"Yeah, you want to come?" Brendon rolls on to his side, propping himself up on his elbow. "I'm going to take her to the pool. You should come, she's like a water baby or something."

"More of her mutant powers?" Spencer asks, shifting Annabel so that she's sitting up on the bed next to him. There are toys on Spencer's nightstand – there are toys all over the house, spread across all the surfaces and floors and everywhere in between. Annabel's like a whirlwind, her belongings everywhere; Brendon should stop being surprised because he's just the same, and Annabel shows all the signs of being just like him. Spencer spreads the toys across the bed next to him, just outside of her reach.

"Maybe. You're making it too difficult for her," Brendon says, leaning over and moving one of her toys closer.

"She's got to figure out how to reach it," Spencer says, moving it back. "She's smart, she can figure it out." He strokes her back. "Can't you, Annabel? You can figure out how to crawl."

Annabel reaches for her rattle and tumbles forwards onto her tummy. She looks grumpy for a moment, before she pushes herself up on her hands.

"She's getting there," Brendon says, grinning at his baby.

"She is," Spencer agrees, helping her to sit up again. She waves her rattle and giggles.

"So," Brendon says again, "swimming. You should come."

"Haven't got anything to wear," Spencer says.

"Liar," Brendon says. "We bought you those swimming shorts back in January. Figure out where you've hidden them and grab a towel out of the closet. We're going in fifteen minutes."

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "It's kind of like I never even had a choice." He leans forward and kisses the top of Annabel's head; she looks up at him and beams. "You want me to come swimming with you, huh?"

She hits him in the arm with her rattle.

"That's totally a yes," Brendon tells him. "She bruises because she cares."

"She's going to grow up to be just like you, right?"

"Of course," Brendon says, lightly. "Now get dressed and stop complaining. We're going swimming."

\--

"Why couldn't you have woken me up an hour earlier?" Spencer complains, once they're in the car. Annabel's in the passenger seat and Spencer's behind, peering over the back of the seat and making funny faces at her so that she kicks her feet and laughs. "Then I could at least have had something to eat."

"You could have grabbed something," Brendon reasons, adjusting the rear view mirror so that he could see both the road _and_ Spencer. "You had time. We would have waited."

"You're not supposed to eat for an hour before swimming," Spencer tells him piously.

"Spence," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "You're going to be standing at the shallow end for an hour with our - with Annabel. I'm pretty sure you could have had one of those weird-ass granola bars you keep making me buy, without keeling over."

"Shut up," Spencer says, sitting back and folding his arms.

"If you'd like," Brendon says, kindly, "I could give you some pocket money when we get to the pool, and you could put it towards getting a snickers out of the vending machine."

Spencer spends the rest of the trip kicking the back of Brendon's seat. Brendon just laughs, and sings along with the radio.

\--

Annabel has a new bathing suit; it's tiny, with flowers all over it and a frill around the waist. Brendon changes her into a bathing diaper and then helps her into her new suit.

"There," he says, picking her up. "Now you're the prettiest baby in the pool, right?" She bats at his face with her palms and coos. Brendon just grins and rubs his nose against hers so that she laughs.

"Sure she is," Spencer says, coming around the corner and leaning against the wall.

"You hear that, baby girl?" Brendon says. "Spencer thinks you're the prettiest baby, too."

Spencer grins, and crosses his arms across his chest.

"You want to take her while I get ready?" Brendon asks, letting Annabel close her fist around his finger.

"Sure," Spencer says, and holds his hands out.

Brendon just hands her over and disappears behind one of the curtains to get changed. He squares his shoulders and tells himself to suck it up and stop being so stupid about Spencer. Sometimes Brendon wishes he could just let it all spill out, all the times he wants to touch him, to curl into his chest and kiss him and fall asleep by his side. He wants to bicker and hold hands and he wants to start kissing him and not stop. He wants this stupid pretend family to be stupid and _real_.

But it isn't. Spencer isn't his boyfriend, and he isn't Annabel's daddy, and leaning in for a few drunken kisses at a couple of parties isn't the same as signing on for all the long term responsibilities of raising a child. Brendon doesn't blame Annabel. He doesn't blame Spencer, for not wanting Brendon the same way that Brendon wants _him_.

It's hard though, sometimes. Knowing.

On the other side of the curtain, he can hear Spencer singing _Rainbow Connection_ to Annabel in a low voice, and Annabel singing along in her own, special way.

His chest hurts, but he bundles his clothes into a back pack and then he plasters on a smile and starts singing along with Spencer on the chorus as he stuffs all of his and Annabel's possessions into a locker.

"Come on," he says, when Spencer remembers that there are other people in the changing rooms aside from them, and stops singing. "Let's go swim."

\--

Annabel _loves_ the water. She starts to squeal from the moment she sees the pool, kicking her arms and legs in the air so that Brendon just laughs and touches his forehead to hers. "My little water baby," he says, fondly, and Spencer just laughs and claps his hand to Brendon's back.

"Are we getting in, or what?" he asks.

Brendon's skin tingles underneath Spencer's palm. "Sure," he says, and he tries not to stare at Spencer's chest.

"So," Spencer says, "how do we do this? Just throw her in and see if she floats?"

Brendon pouts, and tucks Annabel closer to his chest. He likes how she feels pressed up against his skin. "You are not allowed near my baby," he says. "Throw her in and see if she floats. What the fuck."

One of the other parents shoots Brendon a dirty look. Spencer just smiles benignly at her until she looks away.

"We do it like this," Brendon says, and starts to walk down the steps into the shallow end. It's a special parent and child pool, with lots of ledges around the edge of the pool for parents to sit down on with their babies, to try and get them used to the sensation of being in the water. Annabel squeals loudly as the water touches her toes. She's laughing and waving her arms and sometimes it's difficult to keep a hold of her when she's so excited. Brendon's always been afraid that she'll wriggle out of his grasp when he's taken her alone before. That's partly why he's happy that this time he has Spencer with him.

"She's a wriggle-monster," Spencer says, fondly, leaning in and making a face so that she squeals louder.

"She is," Brendon manages.

They head for the middle of the pool, where Brendon bends a little so his shoulders are below the water level. He holds Annabel out in front of him, also submerged to her shoulders, and she laughs and splashes, over and over again.

"Can I?" Spencer asks uncertainly, after a minute.

"What? Oh," Brendon says. "Sure." He grins at his baby. "You want Spencer to hold you, baby girl?"

Annabel makes a noise that Brendon's pretty sure dogs have more of a chance of hearing than Brendon does.

"I'll take that as a yes," Brendon says, and then Spencer's next to him, his leg brushing Brendon's, and he's taking hold of Annabel even as she wriggles. "You got her?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, and then he's bouncing her up and down so she's splashing, and Brendon watches and tries not to want _more_.

\--

They sit on one of the ledges by the edge of the pool, and Brendon tries wetting her hair to get her used to the feeling. She looks bemused the first time, as the water runs down her face, then her face scrunches up and she starts to whimper. Spencer ends up walking her around the pool until she looks less likely to scream. Brendon tries it again, trickling water over her head, like running water.

"I don’t think she likes that," Spencer tells him, after Annabel starts to frown and whimper.

"That's what the books say to do," Brendon says, stubbornly.

"Dude, she likes baths, right?" Spencer says, after a moment. "And she likes it when you kind of, well. Float her."

Spencer's right, Annabel gets all happy and splashy when Brendon holds her on her back and lets her float and kick. "I guess," he says.

"You should try that instead, maybe," Spencer tells him. "Here, you take her back."

Brendon snuggles her against his chest for a moment; she sucks on her fist and rubs her nose against Brendon's neck. He rests his cheek against her hair. _Love you_ , he thinks. He kisses her cheek. "You want to float, Annabel?"

He's careful with her, supporting her head and her legs, and he holds her on her back so it's like she's floating.

He holds his breath, waiting to see if she's going to scream.

"See?" Spencer says, swimming around so he's on Annabel's other side. He slides his hands under her too, one on her back and the other supporting her feet.

"Yeah," Brendon says, biting his lip and smiling. Annabel's smiling too, smiling and kicking her feet.

"That's your water baby," Spencer says. "Right there."

Brendon thinks, _yeah_.

\--

After they've showered and taken turns looking after a screaming Annabel, they look wistfully at the café bar and then at each other.

"She's sleeping," Brendon says, tentatively.

"It's pretty much on our way back to the car," Spencer says.

"They have muffins," Brendon says.

"And smoothies," Spencer adds.

Brendon clears his throat, and they go in and pick out a large smoothie each and two large muffins.

"You get Annabel settled," Spencer says, while they're waiting by the register "I'll bring everything over."

"Cool," Brendon says, and picks out a table by the door with room for Annabel's car seat. He's smoothing her hair away from her forehead and trying to lose his backpack under the table when he hears Spencer order for them.

"Coming right up," the guy behind the counter says. "You want anything for your baby? We can warm bottles, or baby food, or whatever."

"She's asleep," Spencer says. "But thanks."

"I think it's great," the guy says. "Seeing two guys bringing up a baby together. Your daughter's really lucky."

Brendon's breath catches in his throat, and he freezes, fingertips brushing Annabel's skin. He waits.

"Yeah," Spencer says, after a moment. "She is. Thanks."

Brendon swallows. _What the fuck_. He busies himself tidying Annabel's covers, a white cotton sheet with rabbits embroidered around the edges. It had been a present from his mom and dad, and Annabel really likes it. His heart races.

"Did you hear what he said?" Spencer asks, awkwardly, coming over with a tray of muffins that Brendon can't think about eating.

"Who?" Brendon asks, because feigning ignorance seems like the best thing to do. "No, what?"

Spencer shrugs, and doesn't meet Brendon's eyes. "Oh, nothing," Spencer says. "Just that they can warm up food, or whatever. For Annabel. Or a bottle."

"Oh," Brendon says. "That's good."

"Yeah," Spencer echoes.

Brendon doesn't understand. He picks at his muffin and concentrates on his smoothie.

\--

"Which suite at the Palms have we got?" Brendon asks, wandering into the living room with Annabel, who's covered from head to toe in yogurt.

"Don't know," Ryan says, from the couch. He tips his head back and yawns. "The same one as last time?"

"The one with the bowling alley?" Brendon beams. "Awesome." Annabel wipes a yogurty hand down his shirt.

"Brendon," Spencer says, exasperatedly, pointing. "Annabel."

"Yeah," Brendon says, laughing. "My baby loves yogurt, but mostly as ammunition."

"She's all _messy_ ," Spencer says.

"She's a _baby_ ," Brendon points out. "How cool is it that we're recording at a hotel with a _playboy club_?"

"It's just bunny girls dealing you cards," Ryan says. "It's not _that_ cool."

"But _bunny girls_ ," Brendon says. "I'm pretty sure that's cool by default."

"Yeah," Spencer says, grumpily. "If you're into that sort of thing."

"Hot girls in bunny outfits?" Brendon asks. "Is that even a question?"

Spencer makes a noise that sounds like a growl. "Give her here," he says, holding out his hands and reaching for Annabel. "I'll go clean her up. Couldn't you at least _try_ and make her wear a bib?"

"She is her own person," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "And also, I think they're all dirty. We need to do laundry, like, yesterday."

"Maybe you could get on to that," Spencer says tightly, taking Annabel. "Come on sweetheart," he says, kissing her yogurt-covered cheek and heading out into the hallway. "We'll get you all cleaned up nice and fresh, right?"

"Jeez," Brendon calls after him. "What crawled up your ass?"

"Nothing," Spencer says, but he's making stomping noises on the stairs, "Everything's _fine_."

"Maybe he's just tired," Brendon says, flopping down in the armchair. "Right, guys?"

Jon just shrugs, and Ryan doesn't look up from his phone.

\--

Brendon spends ages with Sara, trying to work out a schedule for their time at The Palms so that she gets enough time off and time away from Annabel.

"It's okay, you know," Sara tells him, "it's only for a few weeks, so if I end up working tons, that's fine. I'll cope."

"Hmm," Brendon says, "no."

Zack's flying down too, because apparently their record company thinks that the four of them loose in a casino for over a month is a really bad fucking idea. Brendon thinks back to last time, and realizes that they're probably right.

"Maybe my mom or dad could come babysit a couple of times," Brendon says, biting the end of his pencil. "That way you get some actual time off. They won't mind, I don't think."

"That's not a bad idea," Spencer says, from the sink. Annabel's sitting on the floor, banging her pan drums with a wooden spatula. "You should call them."

"You guys don't have to do this, you know," Sara says. "It's fine, honestly."

"Can you hear something?" Brendon says. "Like… a buzzing sound?"

"Seriously," Sara goes on. "You don't have to organize _cover_ for me."

"Yeah," Spencer says, crinkling his brow. "Like a really insistent noise?"

"It's probably nothing," Brendon says, shaking his head. "We should probably ignore it and organize time off for our nanny anyway."

" _Guys_ ," Sara says, reprovingly.

"Shut up," Brendon says, picking up his pencil and his date sheet and his phone. "I'm gonna go call my mom."

Sara rolls her eyes, and goes to pick up Annabel from the floor. "Fine," she says. "I give in. Schedule me time off."

"Victory," Brendon yells, waving his arm in the air. Spencer joins in half-heartedly, waving his hand in the air. Even Annabel joins in, laughing when Sara leans in to scoop her up.

"You're all ganging up on me," Sara says, making an exaggerated pout that Annabel tries to copy.

"Yep," Brendon says, sunnily, and goes to call his mom. "We do that."

\--

"Holy shit," Brendon says, looking around in wonder, "is this even better than last time?"

"Fuck," Spencer says, following him into the suite and turning around.

"Remember Maryland?" Ryan says, turning around, "remember that shitty apartment and how we all had to sleep in the same room?"

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Fuck."

The suite at the Palms is _ridiculous_. They have a VIP entrance with their own elevator down to the recording studio. They have their own _bowling alley_. In their _suite_.

"I think this is what heaven is like," Brendon says, decisively. "You hear that, Annabel?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "Heaven is a champagne bar and a hot tub and a bowling alley. Sure."

"Well," Brendon says, grinning. "It _might_ be."

"Or you might be corrupting her tiny mind," Spencer points out.

"She has not got a tiny mind," Brendon says, cradling Annabel closer. "You're just jealous because she's about a thousand times smarter than you are."

Spencer digs his fingers into Brendon's side, just below his rib cage, so that he wriggles away. "Shut up."

Brendon just sticks his tongue out, and Annabel copies him.

Spencer shakes his head. "You and your baby are so weird," he says, sadly.

Brendon starts to laugh, and he can't stop.

\--

Jon and Brendon are lying out on the rug in front of the couch, Annabel sitting in front of them, smacking her palms against the floor and laughing.

"She's moving by herself now," Jon says, pointing. Annabel's kind of spinning in a circle, very slowly, propelling herself around with one leg.

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Soon she can be her very own circus show, the amazing spinning baby."

"Idiot," Jon says, rolling his eyes.

"I want her to _crawl_ ," Brendon says, pouting. "Why isn't she crawling yet? Hurry up, Annabel. Daddy wants to see you crawl."

Jon laughs, and ruffles Brendon's hair. "Spencer says you take her swimming."

"Oh, yes," Brendon says, brightly. "She's totally awesome. She's like a water baby. You should see Spencer with her in the pool, it's amazing."

"Spencer goes with you?" Jon asks.

"Yeah," Brendon nods, grinning. "Didn't he say? The first time we went he said we should just throw her in and see if she floats. We didn't want that, did we Annabel? We had to tell Spencer off for being _silly_."

Annabel claps her hands and agrees, noisily.

"You've been together more than once?" Jon asks, off-handedly.

"Yeah, a few times," Brendon says. "I've signed her up for lessons with this really cool guy, but there's a waiting list with like, two hundred kids on it or something, and she'll probably be in school by the time her name comes up. Can you imagine it? Me with a kid in _school_?"

"No," Jon says. "That's going to be totally weird."

"Oh," Brendon says, sitting up, "you should come with us to the pool, and take pictures. Annabel, the amazing water baby, what do you think?"

"Sure," Jon says. "Cool."

"She might break your camera with the awesome, though," Brendon says, lying down again and tickling at Annabel's tummy, "so you should be prepared."

"I will," Jon says, solemnly. "I'll put my extra awesome lens on."

"Good," Brendon says, nodding. "You hear that, Annabel? Jon's going to come take pictures of you being a water baby. How would you like that?"

Annabel hands Jon her scruffy penguin, complete with damp, sucked face and wing.

"Ah," Brendon says. "Approval rating, eleven."

\--

Being back in the studio is pretty amazing. They argue all the time, which is just as frustrating as it always was, but there isn't the same tension that there was when they were recording _Fever_ , the desperation when they all secretly knew that Brent wasn't keeping up, and Brendon ended up filling in for him on bass just because they were never going to get finished, otherwise. There isn't all the history that there was with _Pretty.Odd_., all those weeks of wasted energy behind them, them feeling like that had something to prove. This time, there's just arguing. Ryan and Brendon shout at each other all the time, about the melody and the levels and the pacing and the tone. They shout at each other about snacks from the vending machine, and who drank the last of the coke.

Brendon thinks it would be kind of funny if it wasn't stupidly annoying. Half the time he wants to punch Ryan in the face. The rest of the time he wants to punch himself in the face.

But then they stumble out of the studio and into their executive elevator – for _VIPs_ , Brendon reminds them – and it's like for the first time, they can leave their differences behind them in the studio. Ryan and Brendon and Jon spend most of their downtime bowling, when Annabel isn't around. They have a complicated score chart pinned up on the wall, with each of their names and a table of columns. Jon's pretty much a natural bowler, while Spencer can't touch a bowling ball without sending it straight off the edge of the lane and into the gutter. He has a series of zeroes next to his name on the score sheet, and now he's refusing to play. Mostly he just hangs out with Annabel and laughs at Ryan's ridiculous bowling face, which is a mask of concentration coupled with an even sillier lucky scarf.

"You know we should be out in the casino, right?" Jon volunteers after a while, after five nights of more of the same, late night bowling with Zack substituting for Spencer, and beers and snacks. "Living the life of rock stars."

"Snorting coke off of hookers' asses, yeah," Spencer adds, from where he's sprawled across the couch.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Ryan admits.

Brendon raises his eyebrows. "Swap the hookers for the bunny girls," he says. "Then we'll talk."

"You want to head out?" Jon asks. "Play some blackjack?"

Brendon shrugs. Annabel's asleep, and Sara's here, curled up on the couch with the TV on low, and a book. He could, quite easily, head out with Jon and Ryan and Spencer and Zack. "Spence?" he asks.

"No way," Spencer says, "I'm going to _sleep_."

"You're such a fucking loser," Ryan says, fondly. He leans over the back of the couch and messes Spencer's hair.

"Fuck you," Spencer says, pushing him away. "I'm just _tired_."

"I told you I'd get up with Annabel last night," Brendon says, rolling his eyes.

"It's not that," Spencer says, shaking his head. "I'm just tired, and I don't want to play blackjack or snort coke off of bunny girls' asses tonight, that's all."

"We don't really have to play blackjack," Brendon tells him, leaning over the back of the couch and folding his arms.

"We can just do the snorting coke thing?" Spencer rolls his eyes. "It's okay. Just, you know. Not tonight, okay?"

"You sure?" Jon asks.

"Yep," Spencer says, nodding. "Win big, though. And bring back the bunny girls who lend you their asses, okay?"

"Will do," Jon says, saluting. "You coming, Ryan? Zack?"

Spencer yawns, and scratches at his belly. His t-shirt rides up, revealing soft, pale skin. Brendon finds himself wondering what Spencer tastes like, what his skin feels like beneath Brendon's palm. He jumps off the couch before anyone realizes what he's staring at, and guesses what's going on inside his head. "And me," Brendon says, quickly. "I'm coming."

"You don't have to stay here with Annabel?" Jon asks, from the door.

"No," Brendon says, shaking his head. "Spencer's here, and Sara. Annabel's good. Right?"

"Sure," Spencer says, waving a hand from the couch. "She's good."

"Come on, then," Ryan says. "See you later, losers."

"Hookers," Brendon whoops, "lend us your asses, we've got some coke to snort."

"Except that we don't," Ryan says, elbowing him as they push out of the suite and into the hallway.

Brendon pouts, and tries not to think about Spencer. "Always raining on my parade, Ross."

"Yeah, yeah," Ryan says. "Let's go play cards."

"Yeah," Brendon says, "let's do that." When he looks over to the couch, Spencer's watching him with a weird look on his face.

\--

Recording goes well, really. They lay down the tracks and Annabel manages to only get milk over one of the mixing desks. Jon and Ryan keep the sound engineer busy while Brendon and Spencer mop up the spill with Ryan's scarf, and if it stops working then they're not blamed.

Zack just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

\--

"Next stop, mixing," Jon says, after they finish their last day at the Palms.

"Nrrgh," Brendon says, tiredly, and face plants into the couch.

Spencer just laughs, and goes to check on Annabel.

\--//--

"Annabel is ten months old _today_ ," Brendon declares, stumbling into the living room with a pile of clean laundry. "So, we should have a party."

Spencer sits up. "What for?"

"To celebrate Annabel being ten months old," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think you're crazy," Spencer tells him.

"Well," Brendon says, "I think you should go get dressed. My mom will be here soon."

"Yeah, yeah," Spencer says, yawning and stretching. Annabel's in the middle of the floor, slowly turning in circles and beaming. She's in her pajamas, red ones with monkeys all around the cuffs and tummy. She has her breakfast smeared all down one sleeve and across the collar. She still hasn't gotten past the idea of baby rice as a type of firepower. Spencer leans down and kisses the top of her head, before heading out of the living room and up the stairs.

"We should get _balloons_ , Spence!" Brendon calls.

"I'm not listening," Spencer yells back. "You're a crazy man."

"Balloons," Brendon says, "and party food." He yawns, and starts going through the clean laundry, looking for Annabel's dress. "You want party food, right, Annabel?"

Annabel makes a series of sounds Brendon can't parse.

"That's right," Brendon says, "party food and party dresses. And Spencer's _silly_ , right?"

"I can still hear you," Spencer yells, from upstairs.

"Good," Brendon calls back. "Me, you and Annabel, we're having a party tonight. Got it?"

There's a long pause. "Got it."

"Good," Brendon says again. "Now come on, baby girl, let's get you dressed so your Grandma can take you out for the day." Annabel looks grumpy when Brendon picks her up and lays her down on her mat on the couch, but once he picks up one of her toys, she stops looking like she's going to cry. "That's right," Brendon says, undoing the poppers on her onesie, "Grandma's taking you to the petting zoo, to see the animals. And to the park, so you can go on the baby swings. That sounds like fun, right?"

Annabel responds by kicking her feet in the air. Brendon kisses both of her feet so that she giggles, and then he dresses her in a blue dress and tiny socks, and helps her into a light blue cardigan with a penguin on it. "There," he says, leaning in and nuzzling her tummy. "You're the most beautiful baby in the world again." He tickles her toes through her socks, and she squeals and kicks her feet. "Say _daddy_ ," Brendon says. " _Daddy_."

Annabel smiles, and says nothing. Brendon's pretty sure she's close to words, now. She babbles all the time, all sorts of different sounds, consonants and everything. He likes trying to pick out the different sounds when she talks to him. She understands a lot, too.

Spencer jumps down the stairs, loudly, and comes into the living room, bending over Annabel and kissing her forehead. "Say, _antidisestablishmentarianism_ ," he says, and tries to dodge out of the way of Brendon, who pokes him in the side. "Either that, or, _hurry up, Daddy_."

Brendon elbows him. "We've got lots of time," he says. Annabel's showing him each of her toys in turn, her soft bunny rabbit, her bear, her octopus and her dinosaur. Brendon makes faces at her and touches her nose with theirs.

Spencer just rolls his eyes at him. "Sure we do," he says. "Except for how she's not ready at all."

"She's dressed, right?"

Spencer just blinks. "Right," he says. "Yeah. You want to go fold up the stroller just in case, anyway? I'll make sure her diaper bag's got everything she needs."

"Slave driver," Brendon says, rolling his eyes and grinning.

\--

Brendon's mom doesn't seem to mind waiting, which is good because they're nowhere near ready when she arrives. Brendon makes his mom a chamomile tea and she looks after Annabel while Brendon and Spencer wander around the house and put changes of clothes in bags and argue over what to give Annabel for lunch. Annabel likes pear, sweet potato, broccoli and pumpkin, among other things. She doesn't like carrots or tomatoes, but Spencer maintains she's just playing at being precocious and staying away from red things just _because_. They have tubs of sweet potato and pumpkin in the fridge, but Spencer's trying to send her away with carrots.

"She'll eat them if she's _hungry_ ," Spencer argues.

"She doesn't like them, Spence," Brendon says. "Put the sweet potato in instead. You know she'll eat all of that."

"We're bowing down to her," Spencer says. "We shouldn't let her get away with it."

"What, one day she's not eating her carrots, the next day she's destroying the world?"

"I'm just saying, it's a slippery slope-"

Brendon rolls his eyes. "You can continue your mission to make her eat red things later," he says, reaching for the sweet potato. "I'm not sending my baby out for the day without something to eat that she actually _likes_."

"Fine," Spencer grumbles. "Whatever."

"I'll let you force feed her carrots another day," Brendon says, clapping Spencer on the back. "It'll be like a treat."

"Shut up," Spencer says, and elbows him. "You think if we mashed them up with sweet potato, she might eat them then?"

Brendon rolls his eyes again.

"She might be walking soon," his mom calls from the living room.

"If shuffling around on her butt counts as walking," Brendon replies, sticking his head around the door and throwing a pastel-colored giraffe at his mom. "Take that, she cries when she can't hug something."

"Like father, like daughter," she says.

Brendon rolls his eyes, and starts to list all of the things he thinks his mom should know about looking after Annabel.

"Shouldn't you be taking notes?" he asks, after he's been talking for two minutes and he's pretty sure her eyes have glazed over.

"I have raised five children, you know," she tells him, patting his hand.

"Yes, but not Annabel," Brendon says. "She might be different."

"How, exactly?"

Brendon shrugs. "She's special."

"I get that," she says.

Spencer comes in with her diaper bag. "All done," he says, and then he's holding out a CD. "She likes to listen to this when she's in the car," he says. It's Annabel's favorite CD of Muppet songs.

"We'll be _fine_ , boys," his mom says.

"Uh-huh," Brendon says. "Just, you know. Don't leave her anywhere."

She kisses Brendon on the cheek and lets Brendon, then Spencer, lean in to kiss Annabel goodbye.

After they've left, Brendon looks despondently around his house. "I don't know what to do when she's not around."

"Play video games," Spencer says. "Watch Tarantino films. Smoke up. Or, you know. Do laundry."

"Or go _balloon shopping_ ," Brendon says, brightening up.

Spencer blinks, and Brendon hops on the balls of his feet.

"Come on," Brendon says. "We'll go shopping for balloons, then we'll come back here and play nothing but video games and loud music for the rest of the day. Deal?"

"Deal," Spencer says, shaking his head. "But I'm driving."

"Sure," Brendon says, and laughs. "Let's go."

"Fucking _balloon shopping_ ," Spencer says, under his breath, but he's smiling, so. That's alright.

\--

Four hours later, they're playing Mario Kart on the Wii when there's a call from Brendon's father to say there's been an accident.

\--

Brendon's not sure, but he thinks his world ends, right at that moment. He drops the phone, and he's shaking, and it's left to Spencer to hold him up and reach the phone and figure out where the hell Annabel is and what the fuck's happened. It's left to Spencer to find his car keys and get them out of the house and to the hospital.

Brendon feels sick. He keeps running over all the possibilities in his head, what might have happened, how hurt Annabel might be. He hasn't prayed in a long time but he prays that whole car journey, over and over. He offers up everything he's got, himself, anything, so long as Annabel's okay.

They shout at each other the whole way in, Brendon begging Spencer to drive faster, to cut that corner, to run that light.

"Fuck," Spencer yells, "Do you want us to be in the fucking hospital too? I'm doing the best that I can."

"Just do it _faster_ ," Brendon yells. "My baby-"

"I know," Spencer says, and Brendon knows he _does_ , he just, he _can't_.

"Fuck, Spence," Brendon says, "Just get me there, okay?"

\--

Spencer slams the car into the first parking space they see, and even then Brendon's running across the parking lot before Spencer's even got the car into park.

He hears Spencer yelling after him, but he doesn't care. He thinks, _Annabel, Annabel, Annabel_.

Brendon's dad is waiting outside, and he tries to tug Brendon into a hug, but Brendon doesn't, can't.

"She's okay," Brendon's dad keeps saying, and Spencer's caught up now, one hand on Brendon's shoulder. They follow his dad inside, up to the desk. "She's okay, but they won't let me see her. She's fine. Your mom's fine too. They're both fine."

Brendon leans back against Spencer for a split second, grabbing his hand and squeezing. "I need to see my baby," he says, "my baby."

"Annabel Urie," Spencer tells the girl behind the desk. "She's his daughter. He's her father."

"She's through here," a nurse tells them a minute later. "Which one of you is the father?"

"Me," Brendon says, "me. I'm the father."

"And you are?" She asks, pointing to Spencer.

"He's Spencer," Brendon says, "can you just let us in to see her?"

"I can let you, sir, but not your friend. If he's not her parent then he can't come in."

"That's stupid," Brendon says. "He's with me. I say he can come in."

"I'm sorry, sir," the nurse tells him, and she doesn't move. "He's not her father. Your friend can sit outside and wait here."

"That's _stupid_ ," Brendon yells. "I want him in there with me. Annabel wants him there –"

Spencer stops him with a hand to his arm. "Just go," he says. "Annabel wants you. It doesn't matter. She needs you. I'll be here, waiting."

"It does matter," Brendon tells him, angrily. "It _matters_."

"Annabel," Spencer says, equally angrily. "Just _go_."

\--

It feels wrong. It matters.

\--

Annabel's fine. She's tiny, curled up in a hospital crib with a gash to her forehead and machines measuring her vital signs.

"We're just keeping her in a few hours for observation," the doctor tells him, marking things off on a clipboard. "She was very lucky; the car she was in was driving very slowly and wasn't hit very hard. You picked a good car seat too, it took the brunt of the impact."

"The cut on her face?" Brendon asks. Annabel's asleep but Brendon's holding her hand anyway, her tiny hand. She's too little to have had to go through this, to have been scared and away from her daddy. Brendon wants to hold her close and never, ever let her go again.

"We've spoken to the driver," the doctor tells him.

"My mom," Brendon says.

"Right, yes." The doctor nods. "It looks like your daughter was hit by a CD case that had been thrown across the car with the impact. We stitched up the cut, but she's responding well and we'll keep an eye on her for the next few hours and if nothing changes, then we'll send her home."

"Okay," Brendon says, nodding. He feels like he can breathe again. "Could someone let my- let Spencer know? He's in the waiting room but they wouldn't let him through. He'll want to know."

The doctor nods again. "I'll go do that now. Your baby was very lucky," he goes on, "and she's going to be just fine."

\--

When they finally let Annabel go home, it's late evening. Brendon's drained, too exhausted to even stand up. He wraps Annabel up in her blanket and feels like he's going to throw up when he sees the spots of blood, stained from earlier. He wants to throw the blanket away and never look at it again.

Annabel's sleepy but awake, drowsy against his chest. She fists at his shirt and rubs her cheek against the cotton. Brendon wants to hold her close and never, ever let her go.

Spencer's still in the waiting room, sitting next to Brendon's mom and dad.

"Spence," Brendon manages, and then Spencer's up and out of his seat and Brendon's just leaning into Spencer's side, Annabel cradled between them. "Can we just go home?" he asks, tiredly, and Spencer nods. He looks terrible.

"Sure," Spencer says, and his voice sounds funny, tight and upset.

Brendon hugs his mom and he hugs his dad, and he lets them kiss Annabel but not hold her. No one's holding her but him for a while.

"We'll call you," his dad says.

"I'm sorry," his mom says, and she's crying.

"It's okay," Brendon says, kissing her cheek. He wants to feel more, but he can't. It's like there's just Annabel, and nobody else. "It was an accident."

Spencer has his arm around Brendon's shoulders. "Come on," he says, "let's get her home."

\--

On the way home, Spencer tells Brendon about the accident. Brendon listens, nodding as Spencer explains that Brendon's mom's car had been hit at an intersection on the way to the petting zoo. Someone had run a red light and caught the back of her car, pushing her into the path of an oncoming vehicle. Luckily everyone had been driving slow enough that Brendon's mom had just been left with a cut on her forehead and a wrenched wrist. Annabel had – well. Annabel was going to be fine.

"Thanks," Brendon says, after a while.

"What for?" Spencer asks, and when Brendon looks at him, his eyes are red.

"Getting me there so quickly," Brendon says. "Waiting. Being there. Everything."

"Everything but going in there with you," Spencer says, quietly.

"Spencer-"

"It's okay," Spencer says. "You're her dad, and I'm not. I get it."

"Spence-" Brendon starts, but Annabel starts to whimper and Brendon can't think about Spencer right now.

\--

At home, Spencer makes Brendon dinner and warms up some food for Annabel. While Brendon's feeding Annabel with her sitting on his lap, Spencer wipes down the surfaces, and runs the dishwasher, and says he's busy when Annabel's finished eating and Brendon says he should come upstairs and help bathe her.

Annabel's clingy and tired and tearful. She cries all the way through the bath and all the time she's on her changing table, until she's wrapped up in her red anime pajamas with her penguin and a blanket that isn't splashed with blood. Brendon has already dropped her other blanket in the trash. He never wants to see it again.

He sits down with her in her bedroom and he sings to her until she stops crying. She drinks her milk and Brendon strokes at her cheek and kisses her forehead and tells her over and over that he loves her. She falls asleep between one breath and the next, and Brendon wraps her blanket more securely around her and doesn't put her down.

He falls asleep himself, after a while.

\--

When he wakes up, it's to find Spencer leaning up against the door to Annabel's room.

Brendon smiles at him sleepily. "You can't sleep?" he asks. "What time is it?"

"Early," Spencer says, swallowing.

"You okay?" Brendon asks. Spencer looks pale and tired.

"I think I'm going to go," Spencer says. "Back to my place."

"What?" Brendon asks. He sits up, trying not to wake Annabel in his lap. She snuffles, and stirs.

"This is your home," Spencer says. "Yours and Annabel's."

"And _yours_ ," Brendon says, kind of desperately. "This is _your_ home too."

"I don't live here," Spencer says. "I just camp out in your guest room."

"But-" Brendon starts, stupidly.

"I'm not her dad," Spencer says, softly. "I'm not anything. I'm just stupid about her, but she is _not mine_ , and I can't-" he stops. "I can't do this anymore," he says. "This hurts too much. I'll call you, okay?"

Brendon's trying to lift up Annabel so she doesn't wake up. "You can't go," he says, cradling her close, and trying to stand up. "Spencer, no. You can't go."

"I _have_ to," Spencer tells him, desperately. "Please don't ask me to stay. It's not fair."

"It's not fair to Annabel, you just _leaving_ ," Brendon says angrily. "I'm going to fucking beg you to stay. You can't just go."

"I'm going," Spencer says. His hands are clenched into fists. "I'll call you to find out how Annabel's doing." He doesn't take his eyes off Brendon's face, doesn't look down at Brendon's baby. The baby he'd helped bring up. "Bye, baby girl," Spencer says, softly.

Brendon's furious. "You can't even say bye for _real_?" he yells.

"She's not _mine_ ," Spencer yells back. "She's not my baby, she's _yours_ , and this is breaking my fucking heart, so will you just _let me go_."

Annabel starts to cry, and in the split second Brendon looks down to see to her, Spencer slips downstairs and out the front door, and Brendon hears his car drive away even before he's managed to get Annabel down into her crib, still crying.

\--

 

Brendon waits five hours for Spencer to come home.

He gets Annabel up and dresses her and sings to her like normal. He takes her to the doctors' office to get checked out, and when they get home, Brendon makes Annabel a drink and calls Spencer. The lid isn't on her sippy cup properly and milk tips all the way down Annabel's front and Brendon's jeans as Spencer's phone clicks straight to voicemail. There's no answer on his home phone number either, so Brendon bundles Annabel up into her favorite outfit, tiny blue stripy pants and a t-shirt with a lion on the front, and kisses her forehead.

"We're going to find Spencer," he tells her, when he straps her into her car seat. She's fussy and irritable, still upset from the day before. Brendon thinks it'll be a few days until things are back to normal. She clings to him and cries when he puts her down. "Spencer," he says again, and she snuffles and says _bah bah bah_. "That's right, baby," he says. "We're going to find Spencer and get him to come home with us."

\--

Spencer's house looks empty and dusty and uninhabited.

There isn't a car in the driveway and Brendon leaves Annabel in her car seat while he goes up to the front door to ring the bell. He can hear her crying for him as he waits for someone to answer the door, but there's no sound of anyone moving inside. He peers in the windows, but he can't see any signs of Spencer having come home.

He unstraps Annabel and risks the wrath of the neighbors by sneaking around the back with Annabel and trying the kitchen door, putting his face up to the living room window to see if Spencer's asleep on the couch. He tries calling Spencer's cellphone again, and then his home phone. The cellphone is still switched off, and the house phone just rings out unanswered.

"It's stupid, don't you think," Brendon says, kissing Annabel's cheek and trying not to concentrate on the cut to her forehead, "it's really stupid that Spencer has this big house just sitting here empty."

Annabel whimpers and curls into his side. She's so sad today, it makes Brendon hurt. He hugs her closer, and kisses her again.

"He should move in with us, don't you think? You'd like it if Spencer lived with us and stopped pretending he was just camping out, right?"

Annabel doesn't answer, just whimpers against his shirt. He shifts her so she can see over his shoulder; she likes to see things.

"I don't think he's here, baby," he says, stroking her back. "We'll have to try somewhere else. We're going to find him, though. Don't worry."

Brendon makes sure the gate to Spencer's back yard is firmly secured, and then straps a crying Annabel into her car seat again and gets back into the car.

"I know, baby girl," he says. "I'll take you home soon."

\--

"He's probably with Ryan," Brendon tells Annabel, after they drive past Spencer's parents' house and Spencer's car isn't in the driveway. "Say _Ryan_ , Annabel. _Ryan_."

"Bah," Annabel says, and starts to cry, loudly.

"I know," Brendon says, and his throat is tight and his chest hurts. "I know, sweetheart. I want Spencer too."

\--

Ryan answers the door, and he looks tired. "I heard about Annabel," he says. "How is she?" He leans over to stroke her hair, but his fingers hover over the cut to her forehead.

Annabel's fretful, and she whimpers and reaches out for Brendon.

"She's going to be okay," Brendon says, stroking her back in soft circles. "She's upset today, though. She misses Spencer. Is he here?"

"No," Ryan says, tiredly. "Can you just, I don't know, leave him the fuck alone for a bit?"

"No," Brendon says, stubbornly. "We miss him." He more than misses him. He's _scared_. He's scared that Spencer meant what he said, that he doesn't want to live with Brendon and Annabel anymore. He's been trying to get used to the idea that Spencer is going to leave them someday, and he thought he'd gotten a handle on that, but he hadn't planned on Spencer leaving when Brendon needed him so much, or him leaving so _abruptly_.

Ryan sighs, and opens the door fully, so that Brendon can come inside. They sit in the living room and Brendon puts Annabel down on the floor and hands her her toy dinosaur.

"You're so fucking selfish, sometimes," Ryan says, sitting down on the arm of the couch.

"Because we miss Spencer?" Brendon asks. Annabel starts to cry, clinging to Brendon's leg, and Brendon has to pick her up again, setting her on his lap.

"Because you're a fucking _dick_ ," Ryan tells him, exasperatedly. "Can you think about someone other than yourself for just a _minute_?"

"I am," Brendon says, awkwardly. "Annabel misses him." _I miss him_ , he thinks. He's tired, and the hospital was hard, and he's pretty sure it was hard on Spencer too. Spencer shouldn't be by himself, he should be with Brendon and Annabel. With the people who love him.

"Jesus," Ryan says, "you've been fucking with his head for _months_ , and it isn't fair. Can you just _stop_?"

"What the fucking _fuck_?" Brendon asks. He feels cold all over, clammy and scared. "What?"

"You've fucked him up," Ryan says, tiredly. He sinks down onto the couch, sliding off the arm and rubbing his eyes. "You and your baby. It's not fair, Brendon. It's never been fair."

"Are you trying to be fucking cryptic?" Brendon asks, angrily. "If you've got something to say, Ryan, then you should just come out and say it. I _knew_ you never wanted me to have Annabel."

Ryan swallows, loudly, rolling his eyes. "This is not about you having Annabel, and I really should be getting mad about how you won't let that drop. But this is about _Spencer_. This is about Spencer living with you and acting like he's her dad when she's not even his kid. When it comes down to it, when it really matters, Brendon, he's _nothing_ to her."

"Fuck you," Brendon says, fiercely. His hands clench into fists, and Annabel clings to his shirt. "He's everything to her. She loves him."

"But he's _not_ her dad, Brendon, _you_ are," Ryan yells. "Spencer's just some guy who stays with you and changes her diaper when you can't be bothered and he _loves_ her, like, more than fucking anything. But none of it means anything, not when it matters."

"He's as much her dad as I am," Brendon yells back. "Spencer's her fucking _daddy_ , okay?"

"Dada," Annabel says, and pulls at Brendon's collar.

Brendon freezes.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Ryan says.

Brendon kisses her forehead, "Annabel, you are the smartest baby I know," he tells her. "You said _daddy_ ,"

"Dada," Annabel says again, and starts to suck on her toy dinosaur.

"He's her daddy," Brendon says, softly. "He's her daddy and he's _gone_ , and I don't know where the fuck he is."

"He's not here," Ryan says awkwardly. "Brendon, I swear. He's not." he sighs. "And he's not her dad, either."

"He _is_ ," Brendon says again. His chest hurts, and all these months he's been trying to keep what he feels for Spencer secret, and this is it. Ryan's going to find out, and he's going to _know_. "Please, where is he, Ryan? We just want him to come home."

"It's not his home, Brendon," Ryan says. "It's _yours_. Yours and Annabel's. He just hangs out there and looks after your baby."

Brendon's not okay with Spencer leaving. He's not okay with the idea of Spencer leaving and not being there every morning when he wakes up. He's not going to let Spencer leave, he's decided. "I want him to move in," Brendon says, firmly. "For real. It must be costing him tons of money to just have that house sitting there empty. He should sell it and move in with me and Annabel."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "I can't-" he stops. "Brendon, I'm going to spell this out in words of one syllable for you. Stop me if it gets complicated, okay? Because I can't believe you're this stupid."

"Ryan-"

"Just shut up, and listen, okay?"

Brendon just nods, and holds Annabel closer.

"Spencer is in love with you, and he's in love with your baby, and you don't want him like that," Ryan says. "He loves you, and you're stringing him along because he's a free babysitter and he'll do anything for you. That makes you a complete fucking bastard, Brendon, am I making myself clear? Would you just leave him alone, _please_ , because you're breaking him, and it's _not fair_."

"What?" Brendon manages. He feels like he can't breathe. Spencer's _what_? "Say that again."

"Spencer's in love with you, and he's in love with your baby," Ryan says, shortly, "and I think you're a fucking dick right now. Don't miss that part."

"He thinks I don't want him?" Brendon asks, in a small voice. "Why would he think that?"

"Brendon-" Ryan starts.

Brendon blinks. "Who told him I didn't want him? Which _idiot_ told him I didn't want him?"

"Wait," Ryan says. "What?"

"I let him look after my baby," Brendon says, slowly. "I let him stay with her and look after her and there isn't anyone else in the whole fucking world I would trust to look after her like I trust him. I'd do fucking anything for him."

"Brendon," Ryan says again. His eyes are wide.

"Was it you?" Brendon asks. "Did you tell him I didn't want him?"

"Brendon," Ryan says, for the third time. "You never told him you wanted him. _You_ didn't tell him. You're the one who turned him down."

"But," Brendon says. He makes Annabel more comfortable on his lap. She says _Dada_ , and waves her dinosaur at him. "He didn't want me like that. He just wants someone to kiss at parties, that's all." He feels desperate.

Ryan just looks tired again. He rubs his forehead. "No," he says. "That's not what he wants."

"Dada," Annabel says again.

"Daddy," Brendon says. "I'm your daddy and Spencer's your daddy too, and we both love him a whole lot, right?"

Annabel claps her hands.

"She knows," Brendon says, and he smiles down at her and claps back. His cheeks hurt. "I guess Spencer's the only one who doesn't."

"How long?" Ryan asks.

Brendon shrugs awkwardly. "A long time," he admits.

"Before Annabel?"

Brendon shrugs again. "I guess."

"Fuck," Ryan says, and rubs his forehead again, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You gonna tell me where he is any time soon?" Brendon asks, after a minute. He holds Annabel's hands and claps them together.

"I promised him," Ryan says quietly. "I promised him I wouldn't."

Brendon nods. Spencer made Ryan promise he wouldn't tell Brendon where he was. It hurts. "I need to talk to him, I think," he says, haltingly. "His phone's switched off."

"He's kind of broken-hearted," Ryan explains. "The hospital thing really shook him up. I don't think he'd thought about it before."

"Well," Brendon says. "Yeah. Annabel was hurt, it's okay to be shaken up about that. She's okay, though."

"Not Annabel," Ryan says, softly. "Him not being allowed in. I don’t think he'd really realized, you know, before."

"Before?"

Ryan sighs. "He loves her, you know, and he couldn't be with her when she was hurt. That's got to suck, like, a lot."

"I wanted him there," Brendon says, miserably. "I wanted him in with me. I always want him there."

"But it doesn't matter," Ryan tells him, awkwardly. "It doesn't matter what you want. Something else happens to Annabel and you have to go to the hospital, he's still the one out in the waiting room. I don't think he can do that again."

Brendon just nods, and picks Annabel up so that she's pressed against his chest. If he has his way, Annabel's never going back to the hospital again in her life. He's going to keep her safe forever. "When you talk to him, will you ask him to call me?" he says slowly, standing up. "Annabel would like to hear his voice, I think."

"Brendon-"

"I'd better go," Brendon interrupts. "There are some things I have to do. And Annabel needs to be at home, I think. Somewhere familiar."

"Brendon-"

"Will you tell him? When you talk to him, will you tell him I want to talk to him?"

"I'll tell him," Ryan says, after a while. "Look," he stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Sure," Brendon says, and he plasters a smile on his face. "Annabel's going to be fine, and that's what's important, so. Yeah. I'm going to be fine."

"Right," Ryan says.

"Okay," Brendon says. "We should go. You got a kiss for Ryan, Annabel?" Her kisses are wet and open-mouthed, and are mostly drool.

Ryan wrinkles his nose and blushes when Annabel kisses his cheek.

\--

Outside in the car, Brendon straps Annabel in and drops his head to the steering wheel. "Fuck," he says, softly. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_."

When he looks up, Ryan's watching out of his window.

\--

Brendon drives half the way home before pulling in to the side of the road. Annabel's fallen asleep, and he leans over and smoothes her hair away from her forehead. Spencer had picked her out some barrettes; he'll either have to cut her hair or start clipping it back with the barrettes before it started getting in her eyes and annoying her.

"I'm sorry, baby girl," he whispers. "I know you want to go home. Soon, though, I promise." He makes a phone call and then turns the car around and drives over to his parents' place and hugs his mom.

"I'm really glad that you're okay," he says, hugging her tight. He puts the car seat with Annabel in down on the floor between them, and pulls the door shut behind him.

"I'm so sorry, Brendon," she says, and she looks distraught. "I feel terrible."

"It wasn't your fault," Brendon tells her. "It was the guy who ran the red light. It was an accident and Annabel's fine. You're hurt worse than she is."

"Oh, Brendon," she says. "If only I hadn't taken her out."

Brendon sighs, and hugs her again. "Accidents happen," he says, even though he's so mad at the driver who endangered his baby's life. "It wasn't your fault. I brought Annabel over to see you. She can tell you she doesn't blame you herself."

His mom bends down and kisses her fingers, and then touches them to Annabel's cheek. "Her cut looks pretty horrible," she says.

"The doctor says it's healing," Brendon says. "It might not even scar."

"Oh, Brendon," his mom says again.

"Can you take her for a while?" Brendon asks, after a moment. He feels really bad about asking, especially as his mom has her own bruises across her forehead, from where she'd hit her head on the steering wheel. "Just a couple of hours. She's kind of fretful, though. She might cry when she wakes up."

"Okay," his mom says. "Your dad's home because of this headache I can't shake, but he'll take her, I'm sure."

"Yeah," Brendon says. He picks her car seat up, and takes her into the living room, putting the seat on the coffee table. Annabel stirs, her eyes opening, and Brendon's quick to reassure her that he's there. He unstraps her and picks her up. "She said _daddy_ today," he tells his mom, as Annabel clings to him and cries into his shoulder. "It was kind of amazing."

"Did she?" his mom smiles, and sits back down on the sofa, propping herself up on a pile of cushions. "She's getting to be a such a big girl." She holds her hands out for Annabel, and Brendon sits down beside her on the couch and lets Annabel sit on his lap so that his mom can lean in and kiss her hello. "Did you hear that, Annabel? You're a big girl who loves her daddy, aren't you?"

Brendon's skin tingles. His mouth is dry. "She loves her daddies," he says, softly. "She's a big girl who loves her daddies."

His mom freezes, and then she leans forward and runs her fingers through Annabel's dark hair. "Brendon," she says, tightly.

"I love him, Mom," he says.

"I know," she says, after a minute. She sounds strangled.

Brendon swallows. "Love him, like, more than a friend," he says, just to make sure. "Like –" he stops. "He's Annabel's other daddy," he says, finally.

"Brendon –"

"Are you still okay to take her?" he asks.

His mom's eyes are wet. She nods, jerkily.

"I know you don't approve," Brendon says, slowly. "I know that. But my baby's happy. He makes her happy. He makes me happy."

"Brendon," his mom says again.

"He's gone," Brendon says, interrupting, "and I need to go get him back. So I need someone to look after Annabel. Can you do it? Even though you don't approve?"

His mom nods again, tearful. "She's our grandchild, Brendon. We'll always be there for her."

"Thanks," Brendon says, awkwardly. He leans in and hugs his mom, over Annabel's head. She doesn't look at him as he pulls away. "I'll be back in a couple of hours at the most," he says, "and there are bottles in her diaper bag, and formula, and there's some mashed pear in a tub if she's hungry." He checks his watch. "But she should be okay until I get back, if you give her a drink in an hour. I'll go get the diaper bag out of the car."

When he comes back in, Annabel's playing with one of her board books, making noises to herself. She's wearing clothes that Spencer picked out for her, and the book's one of the ones that Spencer bought her. Spencer gets up with her when she cries, and reads her stories and changes her diaper and makes her her dinner. He's been her daddy in everything but name, and Brendon needs to tell him that.

"Dada," Annabel says, pointing, and Brendon can't help but scoop her up and press kisses to her forehead.

"Love you, baby girl," he says. "And I'll be back for you soon. Be good for Grandma."

His mom doesn't say anything as he leaves.

\--

Brendon's back to pick her up in an hour and a half. He can hear Annabel crying from the driveway, and by the time he gets inside it's about a hundred times louder.

"She hasn't stopped since you left," his dad says, shushing Annabel and holding her close, all without meeting Brendon's eyes.

It's weird, Brendon thinks, but he hadn't planned on coming out to his parents. He hadn't planned on anything, really, apart from getting Spencer back. He's not _exactly_ gay, but then he's really not straight, either. He'd try and figure his shit out apart from how the only thing that really matters is how he feels about Spencer. "Oh, Annabel," Brendon says, and he takes her from her dad and lets her cry into his shirt. "Daddy's here now," he says, "I'm sorry I left, but I had to. I'm back now and I'm not leaving you again, I promise. It's okay."

She doesn't stop crying and his t-shirt's already wet with tears and snot as she wipes her nose against the cotton.

"Annabel," he says, shushing her. "It's okay." He kisses the top of her head, but she just cries louder. "Has she had anything to eat? Any formula?" he asks. His chest hurts, because his dad won't look at him and his mom isn't here. He doesn't know where she is, and why she's not here.

"She wouldn't take one," his dad tells him, straightening things on the coffee table. "We tried."

Brendon lifts her up and sniffs her diaper. "She doesn't need changing either, I don't think."

"She won't go down," his dad goes on, lining up the TV remotes in a row. "I think she just wants you. Yesterday was tough on her."

"I know," Brendon says, nodding. He's exhausted, shaky and worn out and too tired to think. He still doesn't know where Spencer is, and his cellphone is still switched off. He hopes Spencer's okay. "I think I'll just take her home," he says, finally.

"You can stay here," his dad offers, awkwardly. "You don't have to go."

Brendon wants to hug his dad, so he does, even though it's weird, with Annabel pressed up against his chest. "Thanks," he says, ducking his head. "But I just want to get her home. she might settle there."

His dad just nods. "Okay," he says. "But you're welcome here, any time. You know that, right?"

Brendon just lets his dad kiss Annabel goodbye, and then he bundles her into her carseat and kisses her himself. "We're going home, Annabel," he says. Annabel just cries harder, and Brendon's chest aches.

\--

He doesn't see his mom.

\--

Annabel cries all the way home. She's too fretful to sleep, and she's red-faced and hot. Brendon's tired and frustrated and he's _scared_. He's not used to being on his own, and he doesn't know how to make her feel better. She won't go down and she cries whenever Brendon sits with her so he's left pacing the floor and trying to sing to her.

It's four hours later when he gives in and calls Jon. "Is he there?" he asks, and he's almost crying because Annabel's been screaming for so long it feels like forever.

"Brendon-" Jon says.

"Please," Brendon begs. "Please, she's been crying for hours and she won't settle and Spencer's _gone_ , and I need him to sing to her, and he's not here. So if he's there, will you just put him on the phone, _please_."

"Okay," Jon says, after a moment, and then he covers the phone and Brendon's left waiting, kissing Annabel's forehead and squeezing his eyes shut against her screams.

"Annabel?" Spencer says, down the phone line, and Brendon's heart constricts in his chest.

"She's here," Brendon says, desperately. "Please, will you just sing to her? She won't stop crying."

Spencer hisses in a breath, then he starts, shaky and uncertain, singing _The Rainbow Connection_. It's her favorite, and Annabel prefers Spencer singing it to anything that Brendon sings for her. Brendon would be hurt if it wasn't for the way Annabel's smile lights up her face whenever she hears Spencer sing it.

Annabel quiets after the first verse, whimpering down the phone and curling up into Brendon's neck. She hugs him.

"Thanks," Brendon says softly, after. "Spence-"

"No fair, Brendon," Spencer says. "You're not playing fair."

"Spencer-" But he's hung up.

Brendon stares down at the phone for a moment before dropping it down onto the table. "Just you and me, now," he says into Annabel's hair.

Annabel snuffles and presses closer. "Dada," she says. "Dada."

\--

Annabel might have stopped crying, but she still won't go down to sleep. Every time Brendon puts her into her crib, she starts to cry again. Even if he leaves her to cry herself out, after ten minutes she doesn't show any signs of getting any quieter. Brendon's so tired that his head hurts and he can't stop his legs from shaking whenever he sits down.

In the end, he staggers into his room with Annabel and pulls back the covers on his bed. He lies down next to her and curls up around her, hoping that she'll drop off if he's there.

\--

He wakes up, four hours later, Annabel asleep next to him, and he stumbles out of his room and into hers, hoping she doesn't wake up as he puts her down in her crib.

\--

In the morning, he wakes up and listens to see if he can hear Annabel. He thinks, _maybe Spencer's already up with her_ , before he remembers, and his chest tightens.

When he goes into her room, she's still asleep, so he takes the baby monitor with him and goes downstairs to make coffee. He's halfway through putting the coffee on when he realizes it's just him, now. _Right_ , he thinks, and tips half the grounds back into the tub. "Okay," he says, softly.

\--

Spencer doesn't switch his phone on at any point over the next seven days and Jon refuses to hand the phone over when Brendon calls.

Brendon goes slowly crazy with frustration. His house is too empty and Annabel keeps looking up and watching for Spencer to come in. It hurts, watching her face fall.

In the end, he buys colored paint from the toy store and spends the afternoon making hand print and foot print cards with Annabel, like his mom had done with each of her kids when they were little. They cover the kitchen floor in newspaper and sit in the middle of it all, surrounded by jars of paint and a bowl of warm soapy water.

He prints his hand next to hers on the hand print cards, and leaves a space big enough for Spencer's hand on the other side. The foot print ones are just for Annabel, though, and she squeals with excitement every time Brendon dips her foot in the paint jar.

Afterwards, he pins them up so that they can dry, and then he spends half an hour with Annabel in the bath tub, making all the rubber ducks swim around Annabel and Brendon in circles, and trying to get the supposedly washable paint off both of their skin without making either of them cry. It's fun, but it's not the same without Spencer. Nothing is.

Later on, when Annabel is in her footie pajamas, the ones with the mice around the cuffs and across her tummy, he takes her photo and makes her laugh at the camera. He manages to get one of her holding one of the footprint pictures in the split second before she scrunches it up, and he puts on them on the computer and emails them to Spencer.

\--

The following morning, there's a voicemail from Jon on his phone. "Look, Brendon-" it starts, and Brendon's heart sinks. "I know you don't mean to hurt him but he's doing his best, here, and you're not helping. He needs a break, and he doesn't need you reminding him all the time of what he can't have."

He _can_ , Brendon thinks, if only he'd answer his phone and actually listen to what Brendon had to say.

"Will you just, I don't know. Give him a break. I know it's hard for Annabel but it's harder for Spence. Please, Brendon."

Brendon draws a shape in Annabel's oatmeal with the tip of his spoon.

\--

He leaves Annabel with his mom and dad at lunchtime and goes across town for an appointment. When he comes back to pick up Annabel, his mom and dad have gotten the old puppet theater down out of the attic, the one that used to belong to Kara, and they've made snakes out of socks and they're telling her a story through the curtains. They're all wearing silly hats, and when Brendon arrives, Annabel's squealing and clapping her hands and shuffling across the carpet on her bottom. When she sees him, she tries to crawl over to him, tries and almost manages it, until she gives up and holds her arms out and bounces up and down until Brendon swings her into the air and blows raspberries against her tummy.

"How's my favorite baby?" he asks, tickling her until she giggles, "how's my baby with her ten perfect fingers and her ten perfect toes?"

"Dada dada," she says, pointing. "Gaga."

"I think that's Grandpa," Brendon's dad says, proudly.

"Sure it is," Brendon says. "Because my baby is the smartest baby in the world, isn't that right? Who's the smartest baby in the world? _You_ are."

"Do you both want to stay for dinner?" Brendon's mom asks. "I was going to make enchiladas. I could make something for Annabel."

"We can't," Brendon says, checking his watch, "but thanks. We've got to get to the post office before it closes, and there's something I need to pick from home, first. We've got something we need to send to Spencer, right, Annabel?"

"Dada," Annabel says, and claps.

"That's right," Brendon says to her, "Spencer."

"How is Spencer?" Brendon's dad asks, awkwardly.

"Still not here," Brendon says lightly. "He's off being broken-hearted. Annabel and I have to go work on that, though, don't we? We have _plans_ ," he goes on. "We're going to win him back, aren't we?"

"Brendon-" his mom starts.

"No, Mom," Brendon says, without letting her finish. "It's not better this way. I'm not better off without him and neither is Annabel. We're both better when Spencer's _here_."

"I wasn't going to say that," his mom says. "I just. I want you to be happy, that's all."

"We will be," Brendon tells her. "We're happy when we're with Spencer. He makes us happy."

His mom sighs, and swallows. "That's what's important," she says, hesitantly.

"That's right," Brendon says, nodding fiercely. "And Spencer's important," he says. "He's important to us."

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry."

Brendon kisses her on the cheek, standing back up and reaching for his diaper bag. "Say _bye-bye_ to Grandma and Grandpa, Annabel."

"Bah bah," Annabel says, and waves.

"Come give me a kiss," his mom says, reaching for Annabel. "You be good for your daddy now," she says, hugging her. Annabel leaves her a wet kiss on her cheek.

"She always is," Brendon says, and he bounces on the balls of his feet.

\--

Brendon keeps one eye on his speed the whole way home. It's going to be tight, getting to the post office before it closes, but he refuses to go fast, not when Annabel's next to him in the passenger seat. At home, he leaves her in the car and dashes inside, looking for the envelope he'd forgotten to pick up that morning.

It's on the coffee table, next to Annabel's squishy octopus. He picks up both and heads back out to the car.

Brendon takes the piece of paper out of the envelope – it's one of the sheets that Annabel did, with hand prints along the bottom. He uncaps his sharpie and writes, _I'm in love with you, and Annabel's in love with you, and we miss you and want you to come home_ , and then he attaches the page to the front of the stack of papers he picked up after lunch, and slides them into the courier's envelope. "Come on, Annabel," he says, "we're gonna go win back your daddy."

\--

Brendon's phone rings as Brendon's making lunch for him and Annabel the following day. Annabel's sucking on small pieces of bread, picking at blueberries from the brightly colored bowl in front of her.

"You can't do this," Spencer says, breathlessly, as soon as Brendon's picked up. "You just _can't_."

"I can," Brendon says. He feels like all his breath is caught in his chest. "I can and I have."

"She's _your_ daughter," Spencer says.

"She's our daughter," Brendon says. His heart's beating fast. "You're her daddy too, Spence. You always have been."

"But, Brendon. _Adoption_ papers."

"I'm completely in love with you," Brendon says, quickly. "I'm so in love with you I can't think of anything except for you and Annabel. This just makes it official."

There's a strangled noise from down the other end of the phone line. "Brendon," Spencer manages, "you can't just give me your baby."

"I'm _not_ ," Brendon says. The very thought makes him catch his breath. "You and me. We'd both be her parents. Like we already are, but official. So what happened at the hospital can't ever happen again."

"Brendon, you're not-" Spencer's breath hitches. "You know that that could still happen, right? Even with the papers?"

Brendon shrugs. "I don't care. They'd mean something. You'd be her dad. Legally."

Spencer says, desperately, "You're not screwing with me, right? Because I've been in love with you, for like, forever. And I can't, this can't be you screwing with me. Please-"

"No, I-" Brendon tries to catch his breath. "I wouldn't ever do that to you. It's just- I love you. Have done for ages. I should have told you that before. I want you to come back and be with me and Annabel, to be a family."

"Brendon-" Spencer hisses in a breath. "I can't sign this."

Brendon stutters a breath. "Why the fuck not?" he manages.

"It's not right," Spencer says. "It can't be."

"It _is_ ," Brendon says, desperately. "It really, really is. Come home, so we can talk about it. Please."

"But what about her _mom_?" Spencer asks, after a moment, ignoring Brendon.

"She wants what's best for Annabel," Brendon says. He's emailed Lucy more times this week than he has the whole year. "She's seen pictures of you with her, she knows how much you love her. Me and her, we've talked about this."

"But it's not fair," Spencer says again, "Lucy's her _mom_."

"Spence," Brendon says, softly. "Lucy's always going to be her mom, but Lucy signed the parental rights waver forms back when Annabel was born. You're not taking anything away from anyone. You're just giving Annabel _more_. Signing means you just get us. For good." There's a long pause. "Will you at least come back and talk about it?" Brendon asks. "Come back and see Annabel. She's talking, now."

"What, whole sentences?" Spencer asks, trying to laugh. "How long have I been gone?"

"She says _daddy_ , now," Brendon says. "You wanna hear?"

Spencer's breath catches. "Yeah," he says, softly. "Yeah."

"Hey baby girl," Brendon says, kneeling down in front of her chair. He shakes his head when she offers him half a sucked square of bread. "Spencer's on the phone. You want to say _daddy_ for him?" He holds the phone out and he can hear Spencer saying _hey, Annabel_.

"Dada," Annabel says, offering her sucked bread to the phone. "Dada dada dada."

"That's right," Brendon says. "Daddy's on the phone for you. We're going to see him soon. You want to say _bye bye_ and blow him a kiss?"

"Bah bah," Annabel says, and then she hits herself in the mouth with her palm, and waves at the phone.

"She's blowing you a kiss," Brendon says, taking the phone back.

"Yeah?" Spencer says, and his voice sounds strangled.

"I love you," Brendon says, quickly. "I'm in love with you. Please come home. I'm sorry I screwed with your head. I didn't mean to. I never meant to. I just thought you didn't want me."

"I did," Spencer says, awkwardly. "I wanted you."

"Ryan said."

"You turned me down, Brendon," Spencer says, after a while. "You turned me down, every time."

"I thought you just wanted to make out at parties," Brendon admits. "I thought you were just drunk and wanting someone to kiss. I didn't want to screw everything up."

"I wanted you," Spencer says, softly. "I tried to tell you but you kept saying no."

"I'm sorry," Brendon says. "I'm really fucking sorry. I thought you didn't want me like I wanted you."

"Brendon-" Spencer stops. "I've been in love with you for so long," he says, after a moment. "I love your baby and I don't ever want to be without her. This has been hell, not waking up to her. Not seeing you. I can't do this again. If I come back, this is for good. This is what you get. Me."

Brendon tries to swallow. "I sent you _adoption_ papers," he says. "We want you. Fuck, I want you."

"Jon's looking up flights on the internet for me," Spencer says, after a moment. "Are we really doing this?"

"We've already been doing it for months," Brendon says, because it's true. It's all true. He just hadn't realized that everything he's been pretending has been _real_. "We've been doing it wrong. Come home so we can do it right."

"There's one that leaves this evening," Spencer says. "Jon's seeing if there's a seat available."

"We can come meet you at the airport," Brendon says. Annabel has blue lips and a blue cheek from the blueberries. She squishes them between her fingers and holds her hand out to Brendon.

"No you can't," Spencer says. "Even with the time difference it'll be after Annabel should be asleep."

"She'll want to see you," Brendon says. "It won't matter, just this once."

"She'll be cranky and tired," Spencer says. "I'll come home. I'll see her then."

"Okay," Brendon says, "alright."

"I'll see you later," Spencer says. "At home."

"Yeah," Brendon manages. "You have a good flight, now."

He waits until Spencer hangs up before he puts the phone down on the table.

"Spencer's coming home," he says, taking Annabel out of her high chair and swinging her around. "He's going to come home and he's going to be your daddy."

"Dada," Annabel says, and laughs.

\--

He wakes up to someone touching at his wrist, and Brendon opens his eyes, sleepily.

It's Spencer.

"Spence," Brendon says, trying to sit up, and Spencer shushes him.

"Annabel's still asleep," he says, putting his finger to his lips and pointing. Brendon had fallen asleep in the chair by Annabel's crib.

"How did you get in?" Brendon asks, stupidly, rubbing at his eyes.

"I've got my own key, remember?" Spencer says. He's still touching at Brendon's wrist, his eyes fond. "I didn't want to wake you."

"I was waiting up for you," Brendon says.

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "I can see that."

"I was just resting my eyes," Brendon tells him, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Uh-huh," Spencer says. "I think I've heard that one before."

"Never from me," Brendon says, and he tries to smile, but Spencer's fingers are still encircling Brendon's wrist and it's been so hard, this last week. He's missed Spencer and he's been trying to cope with Annabel on his own when she's been fretful and clingy after the accident, and he's come out to his mom and dad and he hasn't been able to talk to Spencer. "I missed you," he admits.

"Me too," Spencer says, softly. "I've missed you both."

Next to them, Annabel snuffles in her sleep, but she doesn't wake up. She's a heavy sleeper, like Brendon.

"She's missed you too," Brendon says, equally softly. "She kept looking for you."

"Being away from her sucks," Spencer admits, and Brendon knows he doesn't just mean being away in Chicago with Jon.

He nods, standing up and leaning over the crib. He straightens Annabel's covers and moves her elephant so that he's sitting in the corner of her crib, by her feet.

"She's been okay though, right?" Spencer asks anxiously, from right beside him. "After the hospital and everything?"

"Unless you count her reaching new levels of mutant," Brendon says, trying to smile. Annabel's breathing is soft and snuffly, and her hair sweeps across her cheek, her eyelashes dark against her pale skin. The cut on her forehead is healing, slowly. She's beautiful, and she's his. She's _theirs_. "You should see her with oatmeal, she's beaten her own personal best and gotten it right up the kitchen wall."

"Maybe she's just practicing for when she's a professional baseball player," Spencer says, elbowing him gently.

"Maybe she's going to be an Olympic shot-putter," Brendon suggests.

"Or, maybe she's just going to grow up to be a drummer," Spencer says. "We throw our drumsticks pretty far, sometimes."

"She can grow up to be just like her daddy, then," Brendon says.

"Brendon-" Spencer starts, and then Brendon can't do it anymore, he just can't.

He closes the distance between them and cups Spencer's face with his hands and kisses him.

Spencer makes a soft noise in his throat and then his hand is in Brendon's hair and he's kissing Brendon back, tugging Brendon closer until he's pressed up against Spencer's chest, Spencer's hand in the small of Brendon's back. He tastes like mints, and bad airline coffee. His beard's gotten a little unruly, since he's been staying with Jon; he'd always kept it neatly trimmed but it's rough beneath Brendon's fingertips.

"Brendon," Spencer manages, after a moment, pulling away from him. "Brendon."

"What?" Brendon says, his fingers catching in Spencer's collar, stroking at the pale skin in the hollow of his collarbone.

"I can't sign your papers," Spencer says, softly. "I can't, I'm sorry."

Brendon blinks, and then he pulls away, out into the hallway and into his bedroom. It feels like his heart is breaking, because Spencer doesn't want him and Annabel like they want him. He closes the door and sits on the edge of his bed and looks down at his fingers. They're shaking.

"Brendon," Spencer says, knocking at his door. "Brendon, can I come in?"

"No," Brendon says, "you can fuck off back to Chicago and leave me and Annabel alone."

" _Brendon_ ," Spencer says, and he sounds desperate. "Please. Let me in."

"Why _should_ I?" Brendon asks, angrily. "You flew all the way down here just to fuck with my head? Excellent, well done, you've succeeded. Now _go away_."

"No," Spencer says, "please, Brendon."

"What," Brendon says, sharply. There's a picture of Annabel on his nightstand, wearing a blue sundress and massive pink sunglasses and one of Ryan's hats. "You came all this way just to tell us that you didn't want us? Couldn't you just have done that on the phone?"

"I _do_ want you," Spencer says, softly. "I want you, and I want Annabel. Will you just fucking listen to me?"

Brendon sighs, and rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't understand," he says.

"I know," Spencer says, and he tries the door handle and comes in, standing awkwardly by the end of Brendon's bed. "It's just. I really love you," he says, matter of factly. "I really love you, and I really love your daughter, and you've just offered me everything I want and it sounds like I'm turning you down."

"Yeah," Brendon nods. "That's kind of what it sounds like."

"It's just that-" Spencer tails off. "Say we're doing an interview," he starts, "and the interviewer asks about you bringing up Annabel. Where do I fit in? Do I even fit in? Do my parents get to be grandparents?"

"Spencer," Brendon says, after a minute. "I'm offering you it all."

"Yeah, but-" Spencer starts.

"I told my parents," Brendon says, interrupting him. "Last week. I told them how you were Annabel's other daddy, and how much we loved you. How much _I_ loved you. I told Ryan, and I'm pretty sure Jon knows, although I was going to call him up later and tell him anyway. I want people to know. I don't want to hide from anyone."

"Your parents?" Spencer asks. He sits down on the end of Brendon's bed. The baby monitor's on the nightstand, they can hear Annabel breathing and kicking at her covers in her sleep. "How'd they take it?"

Brendon shrugs. "They'll get used to it," he says. "They love Annabel, so."

"Look," Spencer says, sighing. "I know you don't give a flying fuck about the internet, but this is going to be big fucking news, Brendon."

Brendon shrugs. "I don't care," he says. "If they're going to be homophobic assholes then they can fuck off anyway."

"Brendon, these are our fans, the people who buy our records-"

"And you're the guy I'm in love with," Brendon says, "and that's our baby, next door. You're going to walk away from that because a few people stop buying our music?"

"It's not just homophobic assholes," Spencer says. "And that's not what I'm saying, it's-"

"Look," Brendon says, simply. "There are always going to be people out there who don't like what we do. You listen to them, or you don't. But if you are going to listen to them, and you're going to choose them over us – over _Annabel_ , can you at least do it quickly?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Spencer says. "And I'm not going to let a few assholes make my decisions for me. I just want to know what we're going to tell interviewers, about Annabel. What are we going to tell the kids at the meet and greets? Because they're going to ask. They ask now. "

"I'm going to tell them that she's ours," Brendon says, softly. "That we've been bringing her up together and she's ours."

"Brendon-" Spencer starts, and then he's leaning over and touching his mouth to Brendon's, just for a moment.

He sits back, and Brendon's left biting his lip.

"I want her, okay?" Spencer says. "I want her so fucking much, and I want _you_. There's just all these questions in my head and I can't sign until I've asked them all, and that's what I'm trying to say. Not that I won't. Not that I don't want to. I want to."

Brendon nods, slowly. "Okay," he says. "I get it."

"I want this more than anything," Spencer says again. "Do you get that?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, nodding.

"Okay," Spencer says. "Alright." And then he's moving, and he's touching his thumb to Brendon's temple. His gaze flicks from Brendon's eyes, to Brendon's mouth, back to Brendon's eyes again.

Brendon can feel his heart beating faster as Spencer leans in, slower this time, and then Spencer's mouth is on his and they're kissing again, Spencer's thumb brushing Brendon's jaw. The angle's weird; they're both sitting on the edge of the bed. Brendon shifts so that he's facing Spencer and he's kissing back, his mouth opening beneath Spencer's, and it's kind of amazing.

When Spencer pulls away, Brendon makes a sound in his throat. "Spence-" Brendon manages, but Spencer just sits back. He sits back, and slowly pulls off his shirt.

Brendon's breath catches in his chest. "Spence," he says again, but then he's tugging off his own shirt, and leaning in and catching Spencer's mouth with his own again. He can't stop touching, his hand flat against Spencer's chest, a rough smattering of hair beneath his palm as his thumb brushes Spencer's nipple. Spencer's the same, his hands running up and down Brendon's sides, across his back, his chest, his arms.

"Fuck," Spencer says, breaking away and taking a deep breath. "Brendon, I-"

"I want _this_ ," Brendon says, and he shifts so that he's kneeling on the bed, moving so he's closer to Spencer, able to slide his hand into Spencer's hair and tilt his head back so that Brendon can lean down and press his mouth to Spencer's again. "I want you," he says, in between one kiss and the next, his hand cupping Spencer's jaw. Spencer's hands are in the small of Brendon's back, fingertips curving into the hollow.

Spencer shifts, his hands sliding down lower, over Brendon's belt, his jeans, his ass. "I've wanted-" he starts, but Brendon cuts him off with a kiss.

"Yeah," Brendon says, "me too," as Spencer tugs Brendon even closer so his belt buckle is digging in to Spencer's chest. Spencer's trying to undo the buckle without breaking off Brendon's kiss; it works right up until Brendon strokes down the curve of Spencer's neck, down from his hairline to his shoulders, and Spencer groans against Brendon's mouth, his fingers pressing into Brendon's stomach. Brendon feels something warm deep in his belly. "You like that?" he asks, and does it again, fingertips stroking.

Spencer nods, making the kind of sound that has Brendon pressing closer, touching him again. How has he known Spencer for _this_ long without realizing that he could make sounds like _that_? He strokes down Spencer's neck again, this time with his knuckle, and Spencer makes the same sound again, deep and low. When Brendon tilts Spencer's head back to kiss him again, Spencer's eyes are dark.

"Spencer," Brendon manages. "Fuck."

Spencer just leans up and kisses him again, reaching for Brendon's belt buckle and undoing it, going for Brendon's button fly and running his hand down over Brendon's erection through the denim. Brendon groans.

"Yeah?" Spencer says, and he does it again, this time undoing one button of his fly at a time. Brendon's hips tilt forwards and it's not fair, it's _not_. Spencer's all the way away down _there_. Brendon can feel sweat forming in the curve of his spine and across his shoulders as Spencer pops open another button, and then dips his head and presses his mouth to Brendon's stomach, just above the waistband. Brendon honest to fuck _moans_ , and his head tips back, and Spencer keeps mouthing at his hip and stroking at Brendon's erection through his half-open jeans, and fuck, this is too much. It's been too long, and he's wanted this for too many months.

"Spence," Brendon gasps, and he's trying to push him away, all at the same time as trying to tug him closer. They end up tumbling backwards on to the sheets, Spencer kicking off his shoes and undoing his belt, standing up as Brendon shrugs his jeans off and scoots back across the bed.

Brendon laughs as Spencer hops on one foot, kicking off his jeans and trying to pull his socks off, stumbling into the nightstand. "Shut up," Spencer says, rolling his eyes and dropping down onto the bed, leaning over and pressing his mouth to Brendon's.

"I shut up," Brendon says, breathlessly, and pulls Spencer closer. "I'm shutting up right _now_ ," he says, and tangles his fingers into Spencer's hair and kisses him.

Spencer groans against Brendon's mouth, and then he's rolling them over so that he's half on top of Brendon, pressing his knee in between Brendon's thighs, running his hands up his chest.

"Good," Spencer says, breaking off to shuck off his underwear, kicking it off the end of the bed and reaching for the waistband of Brendon's, fingers catching in the elastic.

"Fuck," Brendon says, shrugging off his briefs, because he's seen Spencer naked before, but he's never seen Spencer _hard_ before. "Fuck, Spencer-" and then he's shifting closer and Spencer's sliding a hand down Brendon's chest and then he's curling his hand around Brendon's erection and Brendon's groaning against Spencer's mouth, his hips rolling up and into Spencer's hand.

"Brendon-" Spencer manages, breathlessly. His thumb strokes across the head of Brendon's cock, and Brendon's head tips back on the pillow.

"Fuck," Brendon says, again, and Spencer dips his head and kisses Brendon's throat, running his tongue under Brendon's jaw as Brendon groans.

Brendon knows that he should be reciprocating, but Spencer's jacking him off, twisting his fingers just so, and he's cupping Brendon's jaw with his other hand, stroking down his neck and down his arms. Brendon's skin's tingling and all he can do is reach for Spencer and tug him closer and keep on kissing him, breathless, desperate kisses as Spencer keeps on jerking him.

"You're so fucking hot," Spencer tells him, kissing at his cheek, and at the pale, sensitive skin beneath Brendon's ear. Spencer's beard scratches at his skin, his words hot and damp against his neck, his cheek, his jaw. Brendon tips his head back so that Spencer can keep mouthing at his jaw. He can feel the damp head of Spencer's cock rubbing against his thigh every time he rolls his hips and it's the single fucking hottest thing he can remember.

Sweat glistens across the curve of his belly and he twists, pressing even closer to Spencer as Spencer keeps on stroking him. He isn't going to last long; he's been waiting for this for too long. He's been thinking about this for too long, imagining Spencer naked and next to him, imagined being able to reach out and pull him closer and kiss him _harder_. It's better than anything he's ever imagined, Spencer's skin beneath his fingertips, the freckles across his stomach and his shoulders, the way his breath catches when Brendon rolls his hips and rubs off against Spencer's cock.

"Want _you_ ," Brendon manages, wrapping his arms around Spencer's shoulders and holding on, meeting Spencer's eyes for a moment and then leaning in for another kiss, looser than the rest, Brendon's breath catching as Spencer twists his fingers and runs his thumb across the head and shifts his angle.

Brendon's hips stutter as Spencer kisses him, as Spencer breathes across his mouth, "I jerked off thinking about this."

"Me too," Brendon manages, and then Spencer's the one holding on tighter, his fingertips pressing into Brendon's hip as Brendon kisses him again. "I think about you all the time," he says, and he's not just talking about sex anymore, he doesn't just mean he wants Spencer like this, naked and in his bed. He just wants.

"Yeah?" Spencer says, and he sounds strangled.

"All the fucking time," Brendon manages, because Spencer's rhythm's shifted, and maybe his wrist hurts or something because he's slowing down, jerking Brendon slower. Brendon's hips push up into Spencer's fist, urging him to move quicker, but Spencer doesn't. Brendon fucking _mewls_.

"You want more?" Spencer asks, but he doesn't sound like he's in control. He's rubbing himself off on Brendon's thigh, and Brendon's gasps, reaching down and encircling Spencer's dick in his palm. He's hot and hard and Brendon can't help the sound he makes when he feels Spencer groan, deep in his chest.

"I always want more," Brendon tells him, and the angle's all wrong but he doesn't care. He has Spencer's cock in his hand, and he's jerking him off and Spencer's fucking _amazing_. He's making these sounds – soft hitches of breath that Brendon can feel against his skin, ghosting across his pulse as Spencer buries his face in Brendon's neck and breathes. He jacks Spencer faster, the shift in the angle awkward but okay, and Brendon knows that Spencer's almost there, knows that from the way he's breathing, from the way his rhythm on Brendon's cock falters, from the way he groans against Brendon's skin.

"Brendon-" Spencer manages, and it's a miracle he's still managing to jack Brendon off because he's so close, Brendon can tell. "Fuck," he tries again, and Brendon thinks that he's waited far too long to see Spencer come, he really has.

Brendon can feel the same, familiar feeling in his belly. He's on the edge, and he loves that feeling, always has. He likes to hold off coming so he can ride the crest for a while, that twisting, coiling heat down deep inside. "Spence," he tries, one hand in Spencer's hair, "fuck, I want to see you come."

Spencer just groans, and it's the hottest sound Brendon thinks he's ever heard. Spencer tips his head back, and Brendon jacks him off, quicker, faster, harder. His wrist clicks, and Brendon tries to laugh, but he can't. He just leans in and catches Spencer's mouth with his own, catching Spencer's groan against his tongue and it's sexy and desperate and hot.

Brendon's so close. Even with Spencer's faltering rhythm, Brendon's gasping for breath, his hips jerking forwards and into Spencer's loose fist as Spencer whines against Brendon's mouth.

"I'm gonna-" Spencer manages, pulling away from Brendon's kiss. "Fuck, Brendon-" his voice hitches, high and desperate. "Fuck," he says again, and he comes, all across Brendon's fist and stomach and dick.

He tips forwards, his forehead against Brendon's shoulder, and Brendon can feel Spencer breathe, hot against his skin.

Brendon's totally fucking aware of all the points where their bodies are connecting, and the way that his hand is still loosely wrapped around Spencer's cock, jerking him, Spencer's come across his fingers. "So fucking _hot_ ," he manages, and he barely recognizes his own voice. He runs his thumb across the head of Spencer's cock, feeling Spencer's over-sensitive stutter run right through him, and then Brendon's lifting his hand to his mouth and licking at Spencer's come.

"Christ," Spencer manages, opening his eyes.

Brendon licks again, and Spencer tightens his fist around Brendon's cock. Brendon jerks forwards, and the sensation is almost enough for him to come, right there. He doesn't, twisting his hips so that he's fucking Spencer's fist. "Wanted you for so long," Brendon tells him, because he can't keep his mouth shut when he's about to come, "You're fucking everything."

"Brendon," Spencer jerks him harder, and Brendon can't help it, he keens, his back arching. He wraps his hand around Spencer's, tightening the grip.

"Want," Brendon gasps.

"Wanna see," Spencer tells him, his hand splayed across Brendon's hip, a controlling weight. Brendon groans, loudly, and presses up against Spencer's hand. "Want to see what you like when you come. Want to make you come."

"Spencer-" Brendon can't form words. His hips jerk upwards, he's so close, and he _knows_ he's making noises, babbling, but Spencer just splays his fingers across Brendon's hip and watches, letting Brendon control the rhythm of their hands on Brendon's cock. "Oh," Brendon manages, and that's it, he's coming, his hips rocking, and Spencer's pressing his mouth to Brendon's hip and kissing him, over and over.

Brendon's breathless, but he pulls at Spencer's hand, tugging him up the bed. "Up here," he says, and then Spencer's next to him on the pillow and Brendon's wrapping his arms around him, burying his face in Spencer's neck, and Spencer's hugging him back.

\--

 

Brendon comes back into the bedroom with a couple of damp washcloths. He leans over Spencer and pats gently at Spencer's face, wiping at his cheeks.

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "I don't actually have come on my _face_ ," he points out, and Brendon can't help but react, and he knows it's written all over his face. "Oh," Spencer says, softly. "It's like that?"

Brendon shrugs, and concentrates on wiping Spencer's stomach, where there most definitely is come, although Brendon's not exactly sure whether it's his or Spencer's. It's _hot_ , and his stomach tightens at the thought. "I guess," he says. "Well. Yeah. But not if you don't want to. It's okay."

Spencer reaches up and strokes his hand down Brendon's face. His thumb catches at Brendon's lip, and Brendon stutters a breath. "I want to," he says, softly, and Brendon's gaze flicks up, meeting Spencer's in surprise.

"What," Brendon says. "Really?"

Spencer rolls his eyes again. "Seriously, do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I can refuse you anything which makes you look like you just did?"

Brendon looks confused.

"Right," Spencer says. "I forgot. You're an idiot."

"Well-" Brendon shrugs his shoulders, and wipes down his own stomach and his cock and balls, before dropping the washcloth over the side of the bed and onto the floor.

"I'll speak slowly," Spencer says patiently. "And then there'll be a test at the end, so make sure you're paying attention."

Brendon just laughs and crawls back up the bed, resting his head on Spencer's shoulder and sneaking his arm across Spencer's chest. He can feel Spencer breathe. He presses closer.

"I kind of love you, even though you're stupid," Spencer says. Brendon hits him in the chest. "You are stupidly fucking hot when you come, and pretty much before you come, and, um, everything-"

When Brendon looks up, Spencer looks suspiciously red-faced, and he clears his throat and doesn't meet Brendon's eye. Brendon just grins and presses even closer, plastering himself to Spencer's side.

"I'm just saying," Spencer goes on, still pink-cheeked. "Whatever turns you on. Or whatever. I'll do it."

"You say the sweetest things, Spencer Smith," Brendon says, and kisses Spencer's shoulder.

"Yeah, well," Spencer says, awkwardly. "That speech went differently in my head."

"It's okay," Brendon says, patting Spencer's stomach. It's soft, and he strokes at his belly with the pad of his thumb. "I like it when you come, too."

"Fuck you," Spencer says, poking Brendon in the side.

"I love you too," Brendon says, sleepily, and he closes his eyes.

\--

Brendon wakes up to the baby monitor and the soft sound of Annabel moving around in her crib. It's still early, the early morning sunshine sneaking through the gaps in the curtains and across the carpet and creeping across Spencer's skin, still asleep in Brendon's bed. He's on his side, facing away from Brendon, hugging one of his pillows. Brendon wants to lean in and stroke down Spencer's back, fingertips touching at each of Spencer's vertebrae, right down until he reaches the curve of Spencer's ass. He stops himself, though, although he can't help but lift the covers a little as he creeps out of bed, stealing a glance at Spencer's ass as he blinks the sleep away and looks around for a pair of shorts.

He takes the baby monitor with him so it doesn't disturb Spencer, tugging on the shorts in the hallway and slipping into Annabel's bedroom. She's still half-asleep, sleepily waving her penguin in the air. When she sees Brendon she breaks into a huge smile and sits up, reaching for her elephant and holding up her arms for Brendon to pick her up.

"Good morning, baby girl," Brendon says, and he can't help it, he laughs.

She bounces on her bottom, saying _uh uh uh_ and wanting to be picked up.

"You're the luckiest baby in the whole wide world," Brendon tells her, scooping her up and holding her closer to his chest. "You know why? Because you've got Spencer for a daddy," he says, and drops a kiss to her forehead. She wriggles, and waves her elephant so that the bell inside his tummy jingles. "Let's change your diaper," he says, "let's get you changed and then we'll take you downstairs and make you breakfast, and then we can come back upstairs and you can come tell Daddy you love him, okay?"

"Dada," Annabel says.

"We're going to have to increase your vocabulary," Brendon tells her, undoing the poppers on her onesie and carefully sliding it down over her arms and then her legs. He lies her down on the changing table. "You can't take on the world and be the next President if you can only say one word. How about _milk_?" he suggests, reaching for a baby wipe and folding her diaper in half and into a diaper bag. "You can say _milk_ , right, Annabel?"

"Bah," Annabel says, hugging her elephant.

"Close enough," Brendon says, and leans down to kiss her tummy.

\--

Brendon sits in the kitchen with Annabel and feeds her oatmeal and makes her a drink. He makes himself a Barbie Pop Tart and as an afterthought, puts one in the toaster for Spencer, too. When Annabel's smacking her palms against the tray, Brendon puts the coffee on and dumps Annabel's dirty dishes in the sink.

"All finished up?" he asks. Annabel shows him the two grapes she has in her hand and Brendon waits while she picks at them, looking at them curiously before sucking messily at one.

Brendon rolls his eyes. "Hurry up, Annabel," he says. "We have to go and wake your daddy up. We've made him a Pop Tart, specially."

Annabel takes another two minutes to finish up with her grapes. In the meantime, Spencer's Pop Tart has gone cold and Brendon's bitten off a corner. Brendon's pretty sure Spencer will appreciate the gesture, nonetheless. He dumps it on a plate and wipes down Annabel's hands and face, picking her up and resting her on his hip. He can't carry two mugs of coffee, so he makes one, picks up Annabel's bottle, the coffee and the half-eaten Pop Tart, and heads upstairs. His heart's beating loudly in his chest and he knows what Spencer said about loving Brendon and wanting Annabel, but there's still the possibility that Spencer might wake up and change his mind. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten part of his breakfast.

The room is still quiet when Brendon pushes open the door with his foot. Spencer's just how he left him, asleep on his side. Brendon's heart clenches.

"Here," Brendon whispers, and he struggles to put down the coffee and the bottle on the nightstand. He keeps hold of the Pop Tart, and Annabel looks at it curiously. "For Spencer," Brendon tells her. "He can't leave if we bring him breakfast, right, baby girl?"

Spencer stirs next to them, the covers rustling.

"Bah, bah, bah," Annabel says, loudly, and Brendon can tell the very moment Spencer wakes up, the moment his shoulders shift and he mumbles something incoherent against the pillow.

"You see who's here, Annabel?" Brendon says, softly. His palms are sweaty, and inside he's a bag of nerves. "You see who's come back to see you?"

Annabel's waving her arms in the air, beaming.

Spencer rolls over, blinking and rubbing his eyes.

Annabel just holds her hands out, leaning away from Brendon and towards Spencer, babbling a whole speech that Brendon can't even try and parse. She's so excited, she's bouncing up and down, and Spencer- _Spencer_. Spencer's eyes are bright.

"Spence?" Brendon says, softly. He's all of a sudden so scared he doesn't know how he's supposed to ask. "You want her?" he manages, and he doesn't mean _now_ , this moment, here. He means forever.

Spencer swallows, and Brendon remembers kissing Spencer's throat a few hours earlier, the way his skin his tasted against his tongue. _Don't say no, don't say no, don't say no_ , he thinks, over and over. He's concentrating so hard on that he doesn't hear Spencer speak. "What?" Brendon asks.

"Come here," Spencer says, hoarsely.

Brendon shuffles closer, until his knees bump against the mattress.

Spencer shakes his head, beckoning him even closer. "No," Spencer says, "come _here_."

Brendon crawls onto the mattress, and Annabel's beside herself with excitement. Spencer reaches for her and then he's got her, scooping her up and pressing her close, kissing the top of her head and her forehead and her cheek. He holds his hand out, though, and Brendon maybe takes a moment to get it, before he's closing the distance between them and pressing himself to Spencer's side, wrapping his arm around Spencer's back and leaning his cheek against Spencer's shoulder as Annabel tells Spencer about everything he's missed since he left. Brendon listens to the way Spencer's breath catches as he hugs her close, the way he has to wipe his cheek with the back of his hand as he puts Annabel down on the bed between them.

"I missed you," Spencer tells her, very seriously. He curls a finger against Annabel's cheek, and Annabel shuffles around a little and starts babbling again, waving her penguin at them both.

When Annabel finally runs out of things to tell Spencer, Brendon passes Spencer the cold, half-eaten Pop Tart. "We brought you breakfast," Brendon says. "We thought you might want us if we brought you food." He tries to laugh, but it comes out tight and nervous.

Spencer blinks down at the Pop Tart. "What, seriously?"

"It's tasty and nutritious," Brendon points out.

Spencer looks at it uncertainly. "If I eat this, will you believe that I love you and I love your baby and I want to stay?" he asks.

"Our baby," Brendon says, softly. He reaches over and strokes at Annabel's hair. She claps her hands and bounces on her bottom.

"Our baby," Spencer repeats. His shoulder is pressed up against Brendon's. "Well?" he asks.

"What?"

"Believe me," Spencer says. "Please. And don't make me eat the Pop Tart."

Brendon pouts. "You remember the part where it's tasty and nutritious, right? You'll need the energy for when you're getting up with Annabel in the middle of the night-"

Spencer kisses the corner of his mouth. Brendon automatically glances at Annabel, but she's sitting on the bed in between them, unconcernedly playing with her toys. "How about when I'm getting up with _you_ in the middle of the night?" Spencer murmurs, mouth still grazing Brendon's skin.

Brendon shivers. "You'll be too tired," he says, airily. "That'll be the last sex we have until she's in school. You're ready for abstinence, right? I hear it's all the rage with parents."

Spencer elbows him, then stares at him a moment. "Believe me," he says, again. "I want you, and I want Annabel."

"Okay," Brendon says, after a while. "I believe you."

Spencer drops the uneaten Pop Tart on the nightstand, kisses Brendon, and picks Annabel up, ignoring her protests. "Go to your daddy for a minute," he says. "And look the other way while I find some pants."

Brendon just laughs, and takes Annabel. "We're just going to look over here," he says, putting Annabel down so she's looking the other way while Spencer judiciously slides out of bed and goes rooting around the floor looking for his pants. Brendon doesn't even bother to hide the fact he's watching. "There are some sweats of yours over there," Brendon tells him, pointing over towards the closet. Spencer doesn't ask why Brendon has a pair of Spencer's pants in his room, and Brendon doesn't volunteer why there's more of Spencer's clean laundry strewn across the floor with Brendon's.

Spencer hops into the pants and pulls on a t-shirt with an anime panda on the front. He stops by the side of the bed, one hand on Brendon's shoulder. "I can't-" he starts, and Brendon's heart stutters to a stop, "I don’t know if I'll ever be able to tell you what all this means to me," he says, softly, "what _you_ mean."

Brendon ducks his head, and shrugs awkwardly. "It's nothing," he says.

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "If _nothing_ is just another way of saying everything I've ever wanted, ever."

"Really?" Brendon asks, looking up. "That's what _nothing_ means?"

"Pretty much," Spencer says, not meeting Brendon's eye. He climbs back onto the bed and slides his hand along Brendon's thigh. "That and I love you, I guess." He shrugs. "Are you going to give me my baby back any time soon?"

Brendon settles Annabel on Spencer's lap. "You should show your daddy your party trick," he tells her, scooting in so he's pressed to Spencer's side, one hand on Spencer's knee. "He'll be really impressed, I promise."

Annabel blinks at him, curiously.

"Say _daddy_ , Annabel," Brendon says. "Say _daddy_."

Above them, Spencer makes a tight, choking noise in his throat.

Annabel picks up her penguin and waves it around. "Dada," she says, pointing at Brendon.

"That's right, sweetheart," Brendon says, leaning in and kissing her. "You're so smart. Who else is your daddy, do you remember?" He's been showing Annabel Spencer's picture and saying _daddy_ a lot over the past few days. There's been a lot riding on Spencer coming home.

"Dada," Annabel says, pointing at Brendon again.

Brendon just laughs and ducks his head. "You're still right, Annabel." He shrugs, sitting back up and smiling ruefully at Spencer. "That was going to be a pretty cool welcome home surprise-"

"Dada," Annabel says again, and she points at Spencer.

Brendon ducks in again to tickle her tummy and kiss her cheek, telling her, "You're the smartest, smartest baby in the world." She laughs and kicks her feet. When he sits up again, he pretends not to notice Spencer wiping his eye on the collar of his t-shirt. Instead, he just leans his cheek against Spencer's shoulder, and watches as Spencer tickles Annabel and makes her squeal and wave her hands in the air and laugh.

"If you're not going to eat that Pop Tart," Brendon says, after a couple of minutes. "I mean, if it's going to waste-"

Spencer rolls his eyes. "What am I getting myself into, exactly?" he asks, but it doesn't stop him reaching over to the nightstand.

"Like you'd want us any other way," Brendon makes a stupid face at Annabel, who giggles.

"Shut up," Spencer says, and stuffs the Pop Tart into Brendon's mouth.

But he kisses the top of Brendon's head, too, so Brendon counts it as a win.

\--

"Why didn't we set the _alarm_?" Brendon yells, twenty minutes after he's supposed to have dropped Annabel off at his mom and dad's. He's trying to scrub yesterday's oatmeal off one of Annabel's bowls, because they'd gotten sidetracked yesterday afternoon and then again last night and forgotten to run the dishwasher, and Annabel's hungry and smacking her spoon against the table.

"Because we're _stupid_ ," Spencer yells back, from upstairs. "It's your fault, anyway."

"I dispute that," Brendon shouts. "You were the one who forgot to run laundry."

"Right," Spencer says, running down the stairs and into the kitchen. "But you were the one who spilt Annabel's milk all over our clean pajama pants."

"Pffft," Brendon says, and flicks bubbles at Spencer's shirt, grinning as Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses the corner of Brendon's mouth. "You weren't complaining last night."

"I wasn't _late_ last night," Spencer points out, and makes a stupid face at Annabel.

"Meh-meh," Annabel says, grumpily, and pushes her penguin off her tray and onto the floor.

"I know, Annabel," Brendon says, turning around and kissing her forehead. Annabel says two words now, _dada_ and _meh-meh. Meh-meh_ she seems to use indiscriminately to mean milk, her bottle, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Occasionally, it means penguin, too. Brendon isn't entirely sure he could be more proud of her if he tried. "Breakfast real soon, I promise."

Annabel looks disgruntled. "Meh-meh," she says again, and pouts.

Spencer's staring at the coffee machine, trying to knot his tie at the same time. "Where's _mine_?" he asks, miserably, poking at the coffee pot. "There's no coffee left."

"You're going to the dentist," Brendon says, finally succeeding at chipping off the last of the old oatmeal. "Who wants coffee before they go to see the dentist?"

"I do," Spencer says, sadly. "Give me some of yours."

"No," Brendon says. "Go and impress your dentist with how fresh your breath is." Brendon turns around to dry his hands, and blinks. Spencer's dressed _up_ , he's all smart in pants and a shirt and tie. "And also, impress him with your _shirt and tie_. Dude. What the fuck? Is there a dress code now?"

Spencer shrugs, and doesn't meet his eyes. "He's very exclusive."

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, and raises his eyebrows.

"Shut up," Spencer says, clearing his throat and checking his watch. "I'm seriously late."

"Dude," Brendon says, reaching behind Spencer for the oatmeal and haphazardly tipping some into Annabel's bowl. "Do they grade you on how hot you look? Like, score you out of ten, or whatever?"

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "They'll only clean my teeth if I'm dressed to impress. Now, move out of the way so I can go."

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says, and leans in quickly, cupping Spencer's cheek and pressing a kiss to Spencer's mouth. "See you later."

"Not if I see you first," Spencer says, lamely, and then he kisses Annabel. "Be good for your grandma and grandpa, sweetheart," he says. Annabel holds her hands out for Spencer, and Spencer shakes his head. "I'm going now, Annabel," he tells her, "but I'll see you soon."

Annabel's bottom lip quivers, and Brendon scoops her up and lets her sit on his hip as Spencer heads out. It's harder, making oatmeal with one hand, but Annabel's happier than when she's down in her high chair, waiting. "Come on, baby girl," Brendon says. "Let's get you your breakfast and then go out, okay?"

Brendon looks at his watch. Fuck, they're so fucking late. It's totally Spencer's fault for not setting the alarm.

\--

Being a dad is totally lame, Brendon thinks. He's supposed to be a rock star, and he's supposed to be snorting coke while naked backstage in a hot tub with porn stars. Instead, he's down at the store after dropping Annabel off at his parents' place, and he's picking out weird vegetables to cook up for Annabel and mash up, making sure they've got enough diapers and baby wipes and sticking yet another soft toy in the cart for Spencer to roll his eyes at as Brendon tries to sneak it into Annabel's bedroom. He's trying to remember to buy that really boring cereal that Spencer likes, and toothpaste, and then he's in the condom aisle and he's picking out a multi-pack and hiding them under the lentils that Spencer's determined that Annabel's going to like. He lines up to pay and sends texts to Ryan while the woman in front of him sorts out a billion coupons and insists on re-packing all her bags before leaving.

Ryan's in Chicago with Jon, and it's early there, early for Ryan and Jon at least, who've probably been behaving like proper rock stars and partying till dawn. Brendon wants to know if they've been out with strippers and spending all their hard earned rock star cash on drugs, but Ryan just sends him a reply that says _fuck u. were sleeping_.

Brendon rolls his eyes and sends another one back, saying _bet u wish u were buyin diapers and oj at the store. Wanna swap?_

 _U love it_ , Ryan replies.

Well, Brendon thinks. Maybe.

After he's done at the grocery store he has to run even more errands, because they're leaving for England soon and Annabel needs a passport, and all this other stuff, and because her birthday's coming up she needs presents. They're going back to Abbey Road after Annabel's birthday party, to finish up the new album, and Brendon can't wait. His baby is going to be an international baby, jet-setting across the world, and it's going to be amazing. Spencer always looks kind of pained whenever Brendon talks about the flight over, but Brendon knows that Annabel's going to be good this time, because he's been telling her all about London and she's really excited, Brendon's sure.

He doesn’t get home until the afternoon and then he just leaves all the groceries in the kitchen and stumbles into the living room and collapses on to the couch with the huge sub he picked up on the way home. He channel hops while he eats, slurping obnoxiously on his coke and wondering whether it'd be bad of him to eat the giant cookie he'd bought for Spencer.

The house is in kind of a mess, Annabel's stuff everywhere and Spencer's stuff everywhere in boxes and Brendon's crap spread across the whole house, just like normal. They're all messy, and the house looks a little like a tornado hit it. They should maybe clean, but Brendon's tired, and he hasn't had an afternoon by himself in _ages_. He's going to live like a rock star, and play Halo and have his music on loud.

He falls asleep on the couch.

\--

When he wakes up, the house is still empty and it's still a fucking mess. He kicks a couple of hoodies out of the way and wanders into the kitchen, putting half of the groceries away before getting bored. He's out in the hallway, trying to cram some of their shit into the closet when he hears Spencer's car in the driveway.

He bounces on the balls of his feet. He's still at that stage where his heart beats quicker when Spencer wanders into the room; it still feels as exciting as a crush, being able to press against him and kiss him. It's been a month, or whatever, and Brendon's loved every stupid minute of it. He loves seeing Spencer with their baby, too; it's amazing. They're amazing.

"Brendon!" Spencer yells, even before he's properly in the house. "Brendon."

"Back here," Brendon yells back, and trips over a box. He rolls his eyes, he's the lamest of the lame sometimes. He kicks it out of the way just as Spencer comes around the corner, and he's half way to saying _hey_ when Spencer crowds him back against the wall and kisses him, hard. "Mmmf," Brendon manages, as Spencer presses his thigh in between Brendon's legs and tangles his fingers in Brendon's hair, kissing his mouth open and sliding his tongue against Brendon's.

It's hard and it's hot and it's fast, and Brendon's breathless and gasping against Spencer's mouth, hard and pressing up against him, pulling Spencer even closer so he's flush up against him.

"I signed them," Spencer says, in between kisses, cupping Brendon's cheek in his palm. "I signed the papers."

Brendon's brain whites out.

"I'm her dad," Spencer says, hoarsely, and he's still kissing Brendon, kissing the corner of his mouth and his cheek and forehead. "I'm Annabel's dad."

Brendon tips his head back against the wall. He's shaking. "Dentist?" he manages.

"Lawyer," Spencer says, leaning his forehead against Brendon's. "Well, dentist then lawyer."

"The shirt and tie," Brendon says, his fingers twisting in Spencer's shirt.

"Lawyer," Spencer says again. "Good impression." Then he's tugging at Brendon's shirt, his fingertips stroking at Brendon's skin, and he's moving and kissing Brendon's neck, his jaw. Brendon tilts his chin up so that Spencer can get a better angle. "I signed the adoption papers," he says again. "I adopted her."

Brendon can't even think. This is everything he's ever wanted and more. "Fuck," he manages, and he can't even say what he wants to say. "Fuck," he says again, and then he's leaning in and wrapping his arms around Spencer's neck and kissing him, hard. He kisses him over and over, Spencer's hands under Brendon's shirt, in the curve of his spine, tugging him closer so he's pressed right up against Spencer's erection. "We're her parents," Brendon says, and he's kissing him again, hands in Spencer's hair. "She's _ours_ ," he says. "Ours, ours, ours."

"I love you," Spencer says, desperately, and then he's sliding a hand down the back of Brendon's jeans and leaning in to kiss him again.

"Love you _more_ ," Brendon says stupidly, and then he's trying to unbutton his jeans and kick off his sneakers and unknot Spencer's tie all at the same time. "Fuck, naked," he manages, and Spencer kisses him again before unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie enough that he can slide it over his head.

Brendon's beaming and laughing and they're in their _hallway_ and pulling off their clothes and leaving them in heaps on the floor and then Brendon's pushing Spencer back against the wall and kissing him again. "We have hours," he says, breathlessly. "Hours and hours until Annabel needs picking up."

Spencer grins against his mouth, sliding his hand down Brendon's back and over the curve of his ass so that Brendon's hips tilt forward and his cock brushes Spencer's. "We should clean up, then, or run laundry."

Brendon digs his fingers into Spencer's side so that Spencer squirms, his fingers tightening on Brendon's ass. "We should fuck," Brendon says. "Upstairs."

Spencer nods furiously. "We should," he says, and he slides a finger in between Brendon's butt cheeks so that Brendon bucks forward and squeaks. "Come on."

Brendon grabs for Spencer's hand and tugs him upstairs.

"We need a maid," Spencer says, as they dodge piles of laundry and Annabel's toys and Spencer's shoes.

"We just need a bigger house," Brendon says, squeezing Spencer's hand and pressing back against Spencer's cock, just for a moment.

"What," Spencer says, stupidly, stopping in the hallway outside Annabel's bedroom. "That's not a bad idea."

"What," Brendon echoes. "What?"

"We should get a bigger house," Spencer says. "With extra room for our stuff."

"Sure," Brendon agrees, "let's look for something when we get back from England. But, Spence. Naked sexy times. Come on."

Spencer just laughs against his skin and they tumble into the bedroom and onto the bed, Brendon opening his arms and Spencer sliding into them, kicking the covers out of the way and leaning in for a kiss.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Brendon asks, in between kisses, his hands everywhere. He's rolling his hips against Spencer's, his cock hard and wet across the tip.

Spencer just groans as his cock brushes Brendon's stomach. "Wanted it to be a surprise," Spencer manages, his head tipping back as Brendon noses at Spencer's neck, kissing at his collarbone. He nips at Spencer's shoulder with his teeth, and Spencer cries out, grabbing at Brendon's hips. Brendon does it again, harder this time, biting at Spencer's skin, and Spencer gasps out a strangled breath.

"Brendon-" Spencer manages, and Brendon nips at the underside of Spencer's jaw and then runs his thumb down Spencer's neck, into the hollow of his collarbone as he leans in to kiss him. Spencer just groans and hooks his ankle around Brendon's leg, tugging him closer.

"Want you to fuck me," Brendon says, biting at Spencer's lip, kissing him again.

Spencer hisses in a breath. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, nodding. "You want to?"

"You're such an idiot," Spencer says, laughing hoarsely against Brendon's cheek. "Fuck, yes."

Brendon just beams and kisses Spencer again, longer and slower this time, his knee in between Spencer's thighs. He slides a hand down between them, curling his fingers around the base of Spencer's erection, grinning against Spencer's mouth at his sharp intake of breath. There's something amazing about how this feels, about how long he's wanted this, about what this _means_. "You're _ours_ ," he says, softly, and he doesn't move his hand from where it's resting, loosely encircling Spencer's cock.

"Yeah," Spencer says, tightly, and he's trying to fuck Brendon's hand, his hips rolling. "Want to fuck you," he says, and Brendon groans and kisses Spencer again. He breaks away, rolling over and tugging open the drawer in his nightstand, trying to find the lube and not the diaper cream. He brandishes the tube of Glide with a grin, and then reaches for Spencer's hand, carefully licking each of Spencer's fingers in turn, while Spencer watches him with dark, dark eyes. Spencer lazily jacks himself off with his other hand, all the time watching Brendon, who uncaps the tube and squeezes some onto his palm, and then wets Spencer's fingers.

Brendon's kneeling up on the bed and he stays like that as Spencer props himself up one elbow and slowly, slides the tip of one finger into Brendon's ass.

Brendon fucking _loves_ getting fingered, he always has. He whines and pushes himself back onto Spencer's fingers and he's obvious and desperate and Spencer's the first guy – the first _person_ \- he's ever been with who gets off on it, just like Brendon does. Spencer shifts so that he's sitting up, and Brendon drops onto his hands and knees, pushing back against Spencer's fingers and babbling as Spencer twists his fingers like _that_. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," Brendon manages, after Spencer sneaks in a third finger, right up to the knuckle.

"You like that, right?" Spencer says, in a low voice. He holds still, and doesn't let Brendon wriggle, either.

Brendon whines again, deep in his throat, and Spencer stops lazily jacking himself off and just slides his fingers in and out of Brendon's ass.

"Condom," Spencer groans, and as Brendon's scrabbling around looking for one of the few remaining condom packets in the nightstand, Spencer keeps talking, "One day I'm just going to make you come like this," he tells him, and Brendon's got Spencer's fingers in his ass and he's upending the nightstand looking for a fucking _condom_ , this is fucking ridiculous.

"Say that again," Brendon manages, chasing after the last condom box with the tips of his fingers.

"Just like this," Spencer says, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the curve of Brendon's ass. "I'm just going to finger you until you come, no matter how long it takes. You think you can do that? Come just like this, without anyone touching your cock?"

Brendon thinks his eyes just rolled back in his head. "Condom," he gasps, and throws the box behind him, towards Spencer.

"Maybe I'd just jack off all over your ass," Spencer goes on, stroking his palm across Brendon's butt.

Brendon stops being able to make words and drops his forehead to the pillow. They haven't done it like this before, with Brendon on his hands and knees. They've mostly done it with Brendon on his back and Spencer in between his legs, but there's something stupidly fucking hot about being spread open like this, with Spencer kneeling up behind him, bending down so he can kiss the curve of Brendon's spine.

Putting on the condom seems to take far too long, and Brendon knows he's pushing back, spreading his legs and keening, always wanting more.

"Fuck, Brendon," Spencer manages, one hand against Brendon's thigh. "If you knew what you looked like, right now-" and Brendon feels the tip of Spencer's cock pressing up against his ass.

"Spence-" Brendon whines and then he can't help it, he's crying out as Spencer pushes in.

"Okay?" Spence asks, waiting a moment, and Brendon just nods and drops his forehead to the pillow again. He sneaks a hand down and starts jerking himself off, and he knows he doesn't mistake Spencer's sharp intake of breath as Brendon's fist closes around his cock.

Brendon tries not to whimper as Spencer starts to move. It feels _amazing_ , and he doesn't know what's different about being in this position, why the angle's making his cock pulse in his hand as Spencer fucks him.

"You feel so good," Spencer says, roughly. "Fuck, Brendon, you're so fucking hot-"

"Mine, mine, _mine_ ," Brendon gasps, pushing back against Spencer's cock, jerking himself roughly.

He's not going to last long. His lack of stamina would be humiliating if Spencer didn't come as embarrassingly quickly himself, every time – or if Spencer didn't seem to find it a turn on. "I love how hot you are for me," Spencer says, one hand on Brendon's hip, the other at the base of his cock, fingertips stroking at Brendon's ass on every upstroke.

"Fuck," Brendon manages. He's sweating and his legs are shaking and he's jerking himself quickly, keening as Spencer's balls brush against Brendon's ass. "I'm gonna-" he says. "I'm close."

"Me too," Spencer groans, and his movements are jerky and haphazard. "So hot, Brendon-"

And Spencer comes, just like that, awkward and loud, his hand splayed across Brendon's hip as he comes. Afterwards, he slowly slides out of Brendon's ass and drops to his knees. Brendon's close, riding on the edge, and all it takes is Spencer sinking down beside him and sneaking his hand around Brendon's on his cock for Brendon to cry out and come. He jerks himself off, all through the comedown, until he sinks down onto the sheets and tries to remember how to breathe.

Afterwards, he rolls onto his side, and scoots closer to Spencer, who wraps an arm around him and tips his forehead to touch Brendon's.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Spencer says, softly.

"Could say the same about you," Brendon tells him. The air-conditioning's up high and goose pimples are coming up all down Spencer's arms. "Here," he says, and tugs up the covers.

"You'll get hot," Spencer says.

Brendon shrugs. "You'll get cold," he says. "So, yeah."

Spencer just stares at him for a moment.

"What?" Brendon asks. He's already getting warm.

"Nothing," Spencer says. "Just, you know. Right decision and everything."

"Hmm?" Brendon asks. He's sleepy again. He shifts so he's can rest his head against Spencer's shoulder. "You're all comfy."

"Yeah, well," Spencer says, and presses a kiss to Brendon's cheek.

\--

Brendon wakes up with his face pressed up against Spencer's armpit.

"Hey," Spencer says, and Brendon wrinkles his nose.

"Hey yourself," Brendon says, shifting so he can kiss the corner of Spencer's mouth. "So, you signed the adoption papers."

"I did," Spencer says, propping himself up on the pillows.

"How's that feel?" Brendon asks, stifling a yawn and curling up along Spencer's side.

"Kind of like the best thing ever," Spencer says. "I can't believe she's _mine_."

"She was always yours," Brendon tells him, sleepily. "Now there's just a few bits of paper to back it up, that's all."

"And a few thousand dollars of lawyers' fees," Spencer says, smoothing Brendon's hair away from his forehead, the same way Brendon's seen him do with Annabel. Brendon grins, lazily, and pokes him in the side. They have a baby. Annabel is _theirs_. It's amazing, and Brendon knows Spencer feels the same way.

"What time is it?" Brendon asks, after a minute. He's still half-asleep.

"We don't have to leave for a while," Spencer says. "We should get up though."

"Yeah? And do what?"

"I don't know," Spencer says. "Shower, perhaps?"

Brendon laughs. "You have all the best ideas," he says, and grabs Spencer's hand. "Come on," he says, and tugs Spencer out of bed and towards the bathroom.

"I thought you were still half-asleep," Spencer says, tumbling out of bed after him.

"Shower sex, Spence," Brendon says. " Sex in the _shower_ ," He trips into the bathroom and kicks a pile of Annabel's laundry out of the way. They really have to start cleaning up after themselves. "Ah," he says, staring into the bathtub. "Okay. We just have to move Annabel's rubber ducks out of the way first."

Spencer starts to laugh, leaning into Brendon's back and burying his face in the curve of Brendon's neck. "Don't forget her zoo creatures," Spencer points out, nipping his teeth into Brendon's shoulder. Brendon elbows him. "Why does our kid have her own bathroom down the hall and yet her stuff is _still_ all over ours?"

"Shut up," Brendon says, airily, "and start clearing."

\--

They've still got wet hair when they're rushing out of the house later, hastily grabbing jackets and car keys and their phones and tumbling out of the front door. Spencer reaches for Brendon as he goes to unlock the car; he grabs Brendon's arm and pushes him back against the front door and kisses him.

"What was that for?" Brendon asks, grinning. He doesn't check to see if anyone's around watching. He doesn't much care. He knows there's internet interest in him, he knows from what the others have said that there's been speculation about the two of them for the past few weeks and months. Brendon just says, _there always has been_ , but Spencer rolls his eyes and says that there haven't always been pictures of Brendon and Spencer and Annabel in the grocery store or in the park with a stroller. Brendon and Spencer aren't important enough for paparazzi, but they are important enough that kids take photos on their cellphones and upload them to myspace and buzznet and livejournal. Mostly though, Brendon just thinks if they don't hassle his baby or hang out and peer through his windows, they're okay.

"Just _because_ ," Spencer says. "Because we're going to pick our kid up from her grandparents, maybe."

"You want to tell them tonight?" Brendon asks, reaching for Spencer's hand. He's not one for hand-holding, not really. Or he hasn't been before. He's not sure he's changed his mind, apart from how Spencer's hand feels nice in his, warm and kind of comfortable. "We could drive back via your mom and dad's, too, if you want."

Spencer shrugs, and steals the car keys out of Brendon's back pocket while Brendon's concentrating on the red mark on Spencer's neck that Brendon's pretty sure he put there.

Brendon swipes for the keys, once he's realized, but Spencer holds them out of his reach. Brendon rolls his eyes and jumps, trying to reach.

"Do you mind if we don't go see my mom and dad?" Spencer says, still holding the keys above his head. "Like, let's just have a night when it's just us. You and me and Annabel, and no one else."

Brendon nods. "Sure," he says. "We could celebrate, or something."

Spencer grins, and kisses Brendon's cheek. "Thought we already had done?"

"Cleaning the bathtub does not count," Brendon says, primly, and then he laughs. "You're her _daddy_ ," he says, "we're her fucking _parents_."

"I know," Spencer says, and his eyes are shining. "It's fucking ridiculous."

"Except it totally isn't," Brendon says.

"Yeah," he says, and then he hands Brendon the car keys. "How about you drive this time, and I'll drive next time?"

"Deal," Brendon says, and laughs.

\--

They don’t celebrate.

They get to Brendon's mom and dad's and find Annabel covered from head to toe in chocolate. She's fretful and grumpy and clutching the remains of a crumbly cookie in one fist. No amount of coercing makes her give it up, until they have to put her in the car and then she smears it all the way down Spencer's new jeans as he straps her in.

"Well," Spencer says, obviously trying not to swear in front of Brendon's parents, "that's kind of annoying."

"It'll wash out," Brendon says, waving a hand in Spencer's direction and kissing his mom on the cheek. "You covered my baby in chocolate," he says disapprovingly, as she hugs him.

"She kind of covered herself," Brendon's dad says, leaning over and hugging Brendon goodbye. "You used to do that too."

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says, and he wants to tell his parents that he and Spencer are now parents together too, and he wants to explain what that feeling in his chest is, the one which has him bouncing on the balls of his feet and glancing at Spencer and Annabel a lot and grinning. "I bet I wasn't half as cute as Annabel though."

Inside the car, Annabel starts to bawl, and smears her chocolatey fist all over her car seat.

"Well," his mom says. "You _were_ pretty cute."

"My baby is cuter," Brendon says, loftily. "She's the cutest."

"She's also the _loudest_ ," Spencer says, from inside the car.

Brendon just grins. "Stop complaining, I'm just coming." He kisses his mom on the cheek. "Later," he says, and waves as he clambers into the car.

Spencer kicks him from the back seat. "You locked me in the car with a crying baby," he complains. "There are probably _laws_."

" _Your_ crying baby now, Spence," Brendon says, fiddling with the iPod attachment and glancing back at Annabel's car seat as they set off. "You signed the papers and everything."

"Look at the _road_ ," Spencer yells, "look at the road, not the iPod."

"I'm multitasking," Brendon says sunnily, but he still chucks the iPod over his shoulder to Spencer. "You pick the playlist, then."

"Like we can even hear it over Annabel," Spencer complains, waving a rattle over the back of the passenger seat to try and distract Annabel from her screams.

Annabel just pouts and screams louder.

"Well," Brendon says. "This is nice, right? Our first car journey as a family."

Spencer kicks at the back of Brendon's seat for the rest of the trip.

\--

Annabel is just _grumpy_. She cries all the way through bath time, and although Brendon and Spencer make a big show of putting all of her ducks and zoo animals _back_ in the bath tub, even though they only took them all out a couple of hours ago, she still isn't happy. She doesn't even want to splash, until Brendon or Spencer take a step too close, at which point splashing becomes her favorite thing, and they sigh and decide that wet jeans and soggy socks are really what they _want_ to be wearing.

She doesn't want milk and she doesn't want to be held and she doesn't want to be put down. She doesn't want to sleep and she doesn't want to be sung to and she doesn't want either Brendon or Spencer to leave her alone.

"You're a mutant," Brendon tells her, after she's been angrily crying for two hours and he's starting to consider wearing headphones. "You're a mutant, and that's the reason you're my very least favorite baby right now."

Annabel squeezes her eyes shut and cries harder.

"I'm calling Mom," Brendon says, shifting Annabel to his other hip and kissing her forehead. She ignores him and cries harder.

"I'm pretty sure your mom can't help," Spencer says.

"No," Brendon says, "but I'm going to yell at her for turning my baby into a mutant."

"Yeah," Spencer says, rolling his eyes. "That's a great idea. And also, I'm not sure it's _actually_ her fault your baby's a freak who won't sleep."

"Our baby," Brendon says. "Anyway, I had _plans_ for tonight."

"Oh yeah?" Spencer says, elbowing Brendon.

Brendon neatens Annabel's top, which is important even though she's crying like a mutant crying thing, and slumps back against the couch. " _Pimp my Ride_ marathon," he says. "MTV and me were going to be like _that_." He holds his fingers up, close together.

"Uh-huh," Spencer says. "Right."

"I mean," Brendon amends, "it was either that or have sex with you, of course."

"Of course," Spencer nods, and reaches for Annabel. "I was on your list, right."

"You totally were," Brendon says relinquishing Annabel, "I was going to make out with you in the commercial breaks and everything."

Spencer blinks, and curls Annabel into his side. "Your daddy is also a mutant," he whispers, and Annabel tries to bat him away. "Honestly, you were going to make out with me during the commercial breaks. What the – frak."

They're trying not to swear in front of Annabel, but it's not going particularly well. Brendon secretly thinks that Annabel's going to grow up like the Osborne kids.

"Two and a half minutes of uninterrupted _me_ ," Brendon says, brightly. "How could you say no?"

"Beats me," Spencer says dryly. "I'm going to try giving her another bottle, and then we can put her down again."

Annabel hits Spencer in the arm with her rattle. Spencer winces.

"Yeah," Brendon says, with a grin. "I think she's down with that plan."

"Shut up," Spencer says, "and go and make her a bottle."

\--

"Can you hear anything?" Spencer asks, later, sinking down onto the couch and pushing Brendon's feet out of the way.

"The amazing sound of Annabel not crying," Brendon says, blissfully. "It's kind of amazing, right?"

"Yeah, and it's only midnight."

"The rest of the night is our own," Brendon agrees, sprawling out and resting his feet in Spencer's lap. "Want to go party? Score some drugs? Play late night basketball or go hang out at the playboy club?"

"Sure," Spencer says, agreeably. "So long as all of those things mean going to sleep right here and right now."

"No sex?" Brendon asks, miserably.

"You have milk all over your shirt," Spencer points out.

"So do you."

"Our bed is full of Annabel's toys."

"Our _house_ is full of Annabel's toys. Where are we going to put her birthday presents?"

"We'll turn the living room into a storage room," Spencer says, "we don't need it, right? It's either that or the kitchen."

"There are other rooms in the house," Brendon points out. Admittedly, they're kind of full of stuff too. He really needs to clean. Or sort out places for Spencer and Annabel's stuff to go. Or buy a bigger house. He's gunning for the last one.

"Yeah," Spencer says. "But we can't get past the door in most of them. We have too much stuff."

"You're too picky," Brendon says.

"It's a compulsion," Spencer yawns and leans his head against Brendon's shoulder.

"I wouldn't have said no to sex tonight," Brendon says, sleepily.

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "Let's get right on to that."

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, and tucks his toes under Spencer's thigh.

"You get naked first," Spencer says, and he leans in and rests his hand on Brendon's hip, his fingertips just sliding underneath Brendon's shirt, soft against his skin. Brendon curls into the touch, shifting forwards so that there's room for Spencer to lie down behind him on the couch, spooning Brendon. Spencer's hand is flat against Brendon's stomach, his thumb stroking. Brendon presses back against Spencer, and Spencer kisses the nape of Brendon's neck.

"No," Brendon says, his eyes closing. "You."

Spencer just kisses his neck again, and Brendon falls asleep.

\--

 

 _So, we're playing the biggest show of our career so far tomorrow. We're topping the bill at Brendon and Spencers babys first birthday party and we're pretty sure it's gonna be the biggest party ever._

 _Me and Jon have been working on something pretty special for Annabel and we're all going to be playing some of the new stuff. I'm pretty sure the baby's just gonna sleep through it all, but we've got a whole set worked out. It's going to be pretty awesome. Talking of the new stuff, we're going to Abbey Road again soon, to pretend to be the Beatles and wrap up the new album. I think you're going to like it, we sure do. – RR_

\--

"Hey," Brendon says, grabbing hold of Spencer's ankle as he tries to get past, "where do you think you're going?"

Spencer rolls his eyes. "To call Mom," he says. "To make sure she's coming today."

It's Annabel's birthday party and Brendon's been planning this shit for weeks. "You sure that's such a good idea?" Brendon asks, yawning and tugging Spencer down onto the couch. On the floor in front of them, Annabel crawls over to the coffee table and tries to pull herself up. She's the smartest baby ever, Brendon thinks, and grins as she turns around and claps her hands.

"No," Spencer says, shrugging. He sighs, and doesn't push Brendon away when Brendon taps his fingers against Spencer's thigh, which is good because Brendon's kind of got a thing about touching Spencer whenever he can. "I just- I don't want them not to come, that's all."

"I get that," Brendon says. He sighs. "Look, you think if you call your mom you're just going to get into an argument again? Because then she's definitely not going to come over." He shrugs, picking at the seam of Spencer's jeans. "Maybe we should just, I don’t know, leave it."

"I want her to be here," Spencer says, quietly, and Brendon reaches for Spencer's hand and squeezes.

"I know," Brendon tells him. "She's Annabel's grandma, now. But she said she'd try and make it, right? So she probably will. I just don't want you to call her up and have you argue and her not come, that's all."

"Your mom and dad are coming," Spencer says. His eyes are all sad, and Brendon leans in and kisses the corner of Spencer's mouth.

"Sure they are," Brendon says. "But they're still mad at me too. They've just had longer to get used to Annabel, that's all. They've just got the whole adoption thing to be mad about, not the baby thing as well."

"You'd think they'd be happy for me," Spencer says, and Annabel grabs on to Spencer's leg and tries to pull herself up. She's close to standing by herself now. Spencer leans down and scoops her up, tickling her tummy and curling her into his side.

"They don't get it, that's all," Brendon says. He makes silly face after silly face at his daughter so that she laughs and laughs. She's got an evil laugh, a belly laugh that Brendon just can't get enough of. "It's weird for them, I guess. They'll come around."

"I guess," Spencer says.

It's been a month since Spencer signed the adoption papers but neither Brendon's parents nor Spencer's parents have forgiven them yet. Brendon's mom and dad yell at him for just giving his baby away, as if Brendon would have ever considered bringing up Annabel with someone who wasn't always going to put Annabel's interests first, with someone who didn't love her as much as Brendon does.

Spencer's parents are just _mad_ , so far as Brendon can tell. Spencer's all weirded out because his parents have never reacted like this before, to anything. Every time Spencer tries to take Annabel over so that they can get to know their grandchild, he comes back stony-faced and grim, and Annabel's quiet and clingy.

Their daughter is too smart, sometimes, and Brendon wishes she was less aware, so that she didn't pick up on how one set of grandparents don't seem to want her at all, yet. Brendon's known Spencer's parents a long time, though, and he can't believe that they're not going to come around. They're just shocked, and bewildered, and freaked out. Spencer came home one day with a baby, and a set of adoption papers. That's got to be weird.

"Jackie and Crystal are coming over later, right, though?" Brendon says, leaning over and resting his cheek against Spencer's shoulder.

"Sure they are," Spencer says, in the middle of playing peekaboo with Annabel, hiding behind a cushion. "I told them Ryan was coming over, so they're pretty much guaranteed to turn up."

"You hear that, Annabel?" Brendon says, poking her in the tummy so that she giggles and bats at him with her hands, "Auntie Crystal and Auntie Jackie are going to come over later, so that they can make funny faces at Ryan and giggle a lot."

"Awesome," Spencer says, rolling his eyes, but Brendon secretly knows that having his sisters come over a lot over the past few weeks have made things a lot easier for Spencer.

Brendon smoothes Annabel's hair behind her ear and sneaks his fingers into the waistband of Spencer's jeans. He likes how he gets to touch Spencer's skin whenever he feels like it, now, and he likes it even more how Spencer lets him.

"You know," Spencer says, after a minute where Annabel's declined to share her oatmeal and raisin cookie with either of her parents, despite Brendon's best pouty face and Spencer looking sad, "I'm pretty sure we should be doing something else, right now. The party is this afternoon, right? Shouldn't we be like, organizing or something?"

"Pffft," Brendon says. "Organizing is for losers. And wimps. And party planners, mostly."

"I'm not entirely sure Ryan counts as a party planner-"

"He's down at the store with Jon," Brendon says. "That's pretty much the same thing."

Spencer just rolls his eyes. "When's the guy coming to put the bouncy castle up?"

Brendon checks his watch. "About now. And the clown's coming at two, and the bunny petting zoo at three, and-"

Spencer blinks. "I thought we were going to have, like one main attraction. She's _one_."

Brendon clears his throat. They _had_ decided on one main attraction, yes, but Brendon counts the clown and the bunny petting zoo as strictly sideshows only, like the bouncy castle. His band are definitely the main event.

"You know my birthday?" Spencer says, after a while of Brendon doing his best to look innocent. "The birthday that was like, two weeks ago? The one you completely _failed_ to organize a party for?"

"Uh-huh?" Brendon busies himself playing with Annabel's penguin, making him dance across the couch. Annabel loves it when Brendon does that.

"The birthday you made _Ryan_ organize?"

"Ryan likes to organize parties," Brendon says. "He asked." He shrugs. "Anyway. You get a birthday every year."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "That's kind of the idea."

"Annabel's only one _once_ ," Brendon says. "And how many times do we get to celebrate _that_?"

"Hmm," Spencer says. "It's like there's earth logic, and then there's _you_."

Brendon blows Annabel a kiss which she clumsily catches and presses against her cheek. "Yep," he says, with a grin, and he leans in to kiss Spencer's jaw. "You made that party CD, right? And labeled it and shit, right?"

Spencer rolls his eyes. "Made it, labeled it, left it in the kitchen."

"Good," Brendon says, and he lifts Annabel off his lap and down onto the floor again, where she crawls across to her toys and starts banging her drums. "I'm pretty sure-" he starts, but Spencer cuts him off by tugging him closer and kissing him, hard. "What-"

"Shut up," Spencer says, kissing him again. "Shut up."

"Saying _nothing_ ," Brendon says, in between kisses.

Spencer laughs against Brendon's mouth, and Brendon can feel it, right the way down his body, right down to his toes. He smiles, wide, and Spencer kisses him again.

\--

"This is the weirdest party ever, right?" Ryan asks him, later. He's trying to keep his stupid party hat on and not drop his drink, or his ice cream.

Brendon rolls his eyes, and takes a huge slurp of his slushee. Hiring the slushee machine had been the best idea _ever_. "Yeah, _no_. Remember Pete's? With the, um-" he waves his hands over his head until Ryan's eyes widen.

"Yeah, okay," Ryan agrees. " _That_ was weirder." He scratches his nose. "Where is Pete, anyway?"

"On the bouncy castle," Brendon says. "Bronx and Annabel are bonding, or something. Ashlee's taking pictures."

"Hmm," Ryan says.

"You seen Spencer's mom and dad, yet?" Brendon asks, without meeting Ryan's eyes.

Ryan shrugs. "No," he says. "It's still early, though."

"Yeah," Brendon says, "but they've already missed the clown."

Ryan rubs Brendon's shoulder awkwardly. "Your mom and dad are here, though, right?"

"Yeah," Brendon says, grimly. "They're over there, talking to anyone who isn't me or Spence. At least they said hi, though. And they've played with Annabel."

Ryan sighs, and drapes an arm around Brendon's shoulders, tugging him closer. "Your baby's awesome," he says, after a moment. "Like, really incredible. And you and Spence-" he tails off. "I never said. You guys-"

"I really love him," Brendon interjects. "I wouldn't hurt him. You don't have to-"

"No," Ryan says. "That's not what I was going to say. Just. You seem happy, that's all. You and Spencer and Annabel."

"Yeah," Brendon nods. He glances over to where Spencer's clambering out of the bouncy castle after Pete, passing Annabel to Sara and laughing. "Yeah."

Ryan just rolls his eyes, and Brendon pokes him in the side.

When Jon comes to join them, he pokes Ryan too, until Ryan looks disgruntled and shakes his head. "What is this, annoy Ryan day?"

Jon just grins, and knocks Ryan's hat off so he can ruffle Ryan's hair. "Every day's annoy Ryan day, Ry."

"Doofus," Ryan says, wrinkling his nose.

Brendon slings an arm around both of them and noses at Jon's hair. Jon smells faintly of cigarette smoke, of weed and of beer. It's familiar, and Brendon tugs him closer.

He wants to say, _thanks for keeping me around_. He wants to say, _thanks for letting me keep Annabel around_. He doesn't, and instead he just piggybacks Jon and messes up Ryan's hair, tugging on his scarf until Ryan jumps up and piggybacks _Brendon_ , and that's just a recipe for disaster because they're all on the ground then, rubbing elbows and saying _oomf_ and laughing.

"You guys are fucking idiots," Spencer says, with a grin. Brendon just rolls his eyes and grabs at Spencer's hand, tugging him down until he's sprawled across the grass next to them.

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon says, affectionately. He nudges Spencer with his elbow. "How was the bouncy castle?"

"Pete keeps babbling about apostrophes. Any ideas?"

Ryan rolls his eyes. "The internet," he says, as if that's an explanation.

Brendon shakes his head. "Nope, still no idea. You?"

Spencer shrugs. "Still confused."

"Brendon and Spencer's baby's birthday party," Ryan explains, which is still no explanation. Brendon gives in, and leans into Spencer's side. Spencer's all warm, and his shirt smells like Annabel.

"Sometimes we use these things called _words_ ," Spencer says. "You and Pete could try that sometime."

"My blog post," Ryan says, tearing a piece of grass into pieces. "Half the internet has broken out the rainbow icons, the other half think I don't know how to use apostrophes. There are, like, a hundred and fifty seven comments yelling at me for giving people the wrong impression."

"Next time we out ourselves," Spencer says, wrapping an arm around Brendon's shoulders, "we need to pick someone who can be trusted with the English language."

"Shut up," Ryan says, and throws a handful of grass at Spencer. "Last time I do you guys a favor."

"I still appreciate you," Jon says, laughing.

"Yeah," Ryan says, "because you're mooching around my house all the time and I let you eat whatever's in my fridge." He nudges Brendon with his foot. "See if I don't out you better next time."

"Promises, promises," Brendon says, lazily. "Anyone seen my baby recently?"

"Sara had her," Spencer says. "She said something about birthday bonding time."

"Freaky," Brendon yawns, propping himself up on his elbows and trying to spot her across the yard. Sara might be her nanny, but Brendon likes to know where his daughter is, pretty much all of the time. Sara's sitting with her and Zack and Mikey and his nieces by the bouncy castle. He waves across at them and settles back down. "Is it time for the bunny petting zoo yet?"

"No rabbits that I can see," Jon says. "But that freaky-assed clown's still hanging around."

"Aw," Ryan says. "I think it's kind of cute how scared you are of the _clown_."

"Annabel wasn't scared of the clown," Brendon points out, poking Spencer in the belly until he lies down on the grass, and then Brendon shifts so that he's resting his head on Spencer's chest. "Did everyone notice how Annabel wasn't scared?"

"I noticed," Spencer says, waving his hand in the air.

"Me too," Ryan says. "Did everyone notice how Jon hated every moment of it?"

"I noticed," Brendon says, even though he hadn't been watching anything except for Annabel's face the whole time.

"Yeah," Spencer agrees. "We'll get Annabel to protect you from the clown, it'll be fine, Jon."

"I don't like any of you," Jon says. "And I wasn't scared. I just don't like them."

"You're cute," Brendon says, lazily.

Jon elbows him in the kidneys. "I'm not scared of them," he says. "He just startled me, that's all."

Brendon laughs, and touches his hand to Spencer's, so that his thumb brushes against Spencer's palm. Spencer's fingers flex, just a little, and Brendon smiles into Spencer's shirt.

\--

Annabel thinks the rabbits are the best thing she's ever seen. The rabbit handlers set up a couple of pens in the center of Brendon's yard and they let the rabbits out, and Brendon ends up sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pen with Annabel in his lap for the next half hour. The other kids Brendon's invited – his nieces and nephew, some of the babies from the swimming class Annabel's finally gotten a place in – they all swarm around the pens, asking questions of the handlers and stroking the rabbits and making tons of noise. Brendon's brothers and sisters are hanging out there too, taking photos and holding the rabbits and Brendon thinks that booking the bunny petting zoo was possibly the best idea he's ever had. Spencer's sitting beside him, and he holds the rabbits in his lap, and Annabel's content to watch them, mostly, clapping her hands and laughing. Sometimes she wants to stroke them, like Spencer is, and she's clumsy, patting them. They're docile rabbits though, and the handler says that they're used to children.

"Mom would have liked this," Spencer says, after a while, when Annabel starts to get fretful and wriggle. "She likes rabbits. And babies, usually. And parties."

"Yeah," Brendon says, nodding. He elbows Spencer awkwardly, because Annabel's wriggling and Spencer's holding a tiny brown and white rabbit and scratching her between her ears. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Spencer says, but it isn't.

"I think she needs changing," Brendon says, lifting Annabel up and sniffing at her diaper. "I'd better go in and do that before she starts screaming the place down."

"Okay," Spencer nods. He keeps stroking the rabbit in his lap.

Brendon manages half a smile and leans in to kiss Spencer's cheek. "We love you," he tells him. Brendon knows it's not the same, though.

\--

Annabel's fretful and she cries all the way through having her diaper changed. Brendon thinks that she's going to be grumpy in the morning, on her actual birthday. He puts her down for a nap, letting her snuggle up next to her penguin. She's already dropping off, even as he kisses her forehead and goes over to the window to close the curtains.

Spencer's in the kitchen when he comes downstairs, opening a can of coke and leaning back against the counters.

"Hey," Brendon says, and Spencer just looks tired all of a sudden, tired and sad.

"Annabel okay?" Spencer asks.

"I've put her down for her nap," Brendon says. "How about you?"

"I don't need a nap," Spencer says, and tries for a grin.

"No," Brendon says, rolling his eyes. He crosses the kitchen and leans against the counter. He sneaks a slurp from Spencer's coke. "Are you okay?"

"I called Mom's cell," Spencer admits tiredly. "Just now. She didn't answer."

Brendon nods. He really doesn't know what to do; he's known Spencer's parents almost as long as he's known Spencer, and he's never known them be mad with Spencer like this. Spencer's parents are the ones who hold the rest of them together. "Come here," he says, and he tugs Spencer into a hug. Spencer presses his cheek against Brendon's.

"I thought they'd come," Spencer says against Brendon's ear. "I thought they'd be here."

"I know," Brendon says, and that's what he'd thought too. "I know."

Brendon strokes at Spencer's hair, and wraps his arms around Spencer's neck. He thinks about his own family, out in the yard and making tons of noise and petting the rabbits. His own mom and dad are barely talking to him, but at least they're _here_ , celebrating Annabel's birthday with them. It makes a difference.

"You want to go back out there?" Brendon asks, after a while.

"In a minute," Spencer says, and Brendon nods, and doesn't let go.

"Guys," Ryan says, interrupting, so that they pull apart. "Spence-"

Ryan's standing in the doorway to Brendon and Spencer's kitchen, and with him are Spencer's parents.

"Sorry, I couldn't answer your call," Spencer's mom says, awkwardly. "I was driving and your dad couldn't figure out how to get into my purse to get my cell."

"It was my fault," Spencer's dad says, "but it's a very complicated clasp."

"You're late," Spencer says, swallowing. He reaches for Brendon, touching at his elbow and then sliding his fingers down Brendon's arm until he's holding Brendon's hand, hard. His palm's all sweaty against Brendon's. Brendon squeezes his hand. Ryan ducks back out into the yard.

"Yeah," Spencer's mom says. "I'm sorry. We realized we didn't have a gift for Annabel, so we had to go to the toy store-"

"Really late," Spencer says. "Like, _hours_ , late."

"Spencer," his dad says.

"You've missed the clown," Spencer goes on. "And the rabbits, pretty much. Annabel's asleep, too."

Brendon's hand hurts because Spencer's holding it so tightly.

"I know," Spencer's dad says. "We're sorry. We're sorry we missed Annabel's party. We should have been here earlier, and we weren't."

"We're sorry," Spencer's mom starts.

"Her _birthday_ ," Spencer interrupts. "You missed my daughter's birthday, because you're pissed at _me_."

"Spencer-"

"She's _one_ ," Spencer says. "And I know you're mad because I adopted her without talking to you first, and I know you think I'm crazy for doing this thing with Brendon, but I _adopted_ her. She's my baby and you missed her party. That fucking sucks."

There's a long minute where nobody says anything. Brendon's watching Spencer and holding on tight to his hand. A muscle's going in Spencer's cheek, and his hair's fallen over his eye. Spencer ignores it and doesn't push it back behind his ear.

"I know," Spencer's mom says, finally. "We really screwed up. We are sorry, though. We want to make it better."

"Yeah," his dad echoes. "But this has been really hard for your mom and I-"

"I get that," Spencer says, and he takes a deep breath and keeps holding on to Brendon's hand, "I get that it's hard and it's weird because it's me and Brendon now, and we're together, and that's got to be like, strange for you and everything. And I know you think it's too soon for me to be adopting Annabel –"

"It's not," Brendon interrupts.

"You're both so young," Spencer's mom says, after a moment. "You're both young and you haven't been together long. What if-"

Brendon shakes his head. "Spencer's her dad as much as I am," he says. "That's not what he gets, signing that. He already had that, whatever happens. This way he just gets rights."

"At the hospital, Mom," Spencer says. "She was hurt and I couldn't be with her. I-" he swallows. "I'm not doing that again. I can't."

After a while, his mom nods, and clears her throat. "We didn't get to wrap her gift," she says. "I hope you'll let us give it to her."

Spencer nods, slowly. "She's sleeping. But you can stay and give it to her later, if you'd like," he says. "There's lots of food out in the yard. And there are rabbits, too."

"Okay," Spencer's dad says. "We'd like that."

"Good," Spencer says, relaxing his grip on Brendon's hand, and when Spencer's mom and dad are outside, Brendon leans up and kisses Spencer's cheek.

Spencer's beard tickles his skin.

\--

Annabel sleeps for just over an hour, and when Spencer brings her down, Ryan and Jon have just finished setting up their instruments in the back yard.

"We're playing a show for a _one year old_ ," Ryan says, rolling his eyes, and pulling up a lawn chair for Sara to sit down in.

"Yeah, yeah," Brendon grins, coming over and kissing Annabel's cheek, then the corner of Spencer's mouth. He doesn't care who sees. Spencer slides an arm around Brendon's shoulders, and Brendon leans into his side, tickling Annabel's tummy.

Annabel demands that Brendon hold her penguin, and when Brendon takes him, he discovers he's just taken hold of a very soggy, sucked penguin foot. "Thank you," he says, seriously, trying not to wrinkle his nose. "Penguin is stinky, repeat, penguin is stinky," he says in an undertone, to Spencer.

"Time to infiltrate the nursery in the dead of night and run laundry again, huh?" Spencer says.

"Definitely," Brendon agrees.

Across the other side of the yard, Brendon's mom and dad are standing by the edge of the makeshift stage, next to Spencer's parents. His dad smiles at him, and his mom waves. Spencer's parents' both look over and wave, awkwardly. Brendon waves back, and then he's distracted by his baby, who's telling him a very long story about how her party is the best thing ever.

"Come on," Jon says, holding Brendon's guitar. "Time to wow your baby with our fierce acoustic skills."

Brendon just laughs, and beckons Sara over so that she can take Annabel. He settles her in Sara's lap and he's just ruffling his baby's hair so that she frowns up at him and tries to bat him away, when his mom comes over.

"Brendon," she says. "Would you-" she pushes her hair behind her ear. Spencer's mom is standing next to her. "Could we take her? While you play?"

Brendon looks across to Spencer, who shrugs, and manages a tiny smile. "Sure," Brendon says, nodding. "She'd really like that."

They pull up another couple of lawn chairs for their moms, ignoring their protests that they can sit on the ground.

"This is a sit-down show," Brendon tells them, "and sit-down means seated. On seats," he says, when his mom threatens to interrupt. "So sit down, and stop holding everything up."

"Exactly," Spencer says, "before Ryan starts complaining you're screwing with his show."

"Hey," Ryan complains.

"See," Spencer says, "he's started already."

"Okay," Brendon's mom says, "alright. We're sitting down. Where's the gorgeous birthday girl, huh?"

"Right here," Brendon says, and he settles Annabel on his mom's lap, so that she can get a good view. Annabel's more interested in Spencer's mom's bracelet, though. When Spencer's mom holds her hand out, Annabel solemnly holds hers out too before curling her fist around Spencer's mom's fingers.

"I think that means she likes you, Mom," Spencer says.

"Maybe I remind her of you," she says.

"Maybe," Spencer says. "Or maybe she just likes her grandma."

Brendon moves closer, his wrist touching at Spencer's hip.

"I hope so," she says, after a moment. She smiles up at Spencer, swallowing. "I'd like that."

"Yeah," Spencer nods. The back of his hand brushes Brendon's. "Me too."

Brendon just smiles, and tangles his fingers in Spencer's, squeezing. "Come on," he says, and he laughs, tugging Spencer over to where Jon and Ryan are waiting, instruments in hand.

"I do not complain," Ryan says, under his breath.

Jon rolls his eyes and pokes Ryan in the side. Ryan wriggles away.

"Oh," Spencer says. Brendon can't stop smiling, and Spencer catches his eye and grins. He rolls his eyes. "Acoustic sets, my _favorite_. Where's my shaker?"

"Shut up," Brendon says, laughing. "You have a daughter to impress, now."

"She's going to be thrilled," Spencer says, "I wield a shaker pot like a pro."

"Of course you do," Brendon says, and he grins across at his baby and counts them in.

 

 **[the end]**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Thereafter You Have It (And Tango Makes Three) [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/691479) by [Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurrochard/pseuds/Fleur%20Rochard)




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